Author: P S Power
Date: 2018-11-04 04:00:00+00:00

Vile Machinations

P.S. Power

Orange Cat Publishing

Copyright 2018

Chapter one

The grand and pretentious room Connor found himself in was vaguely familiar. Not, of course, for the correct reasons. That would be too much to ask, he knew. The large desk was set up in a command position however, with a large, even majestic, chair behind it that could have, if a person wanted to be a bit less than kind, be honestly described as a throne. Behind the well-dressed bald man sitting in it, his lean frame allowed expansive red leather to be shown, held in place by decorative woodworking on the edges. The carvings were so fine they were nearly hidden in the polished gleam.

The desk itself was incredibly ornate on a level that spoke of compensating for personal issues. Large on a scale that presented the person behind it as being nearly godlike, or at least kingly. Most likely that was about feelings of inadequacy, possibly due to having a small penis. It was, nearly, something that the boy sitting in front of it recognized. As if the whole thing felt like he’d been there before.

Except, of course, that wasn’t true. For all the room, desk and chair were in what was supposed to be his own home, Connor had never seen it before. He was simply thinking of the desk that his old school headmaster, Morris, used. A thing not nearly as decorated or gaudy. It was still an attempt at over compensation, he didn’t doubt.

On the good side, sitting there in front of his father, the chair Connor was in nearly matched that on the other side. It was in red leather that matched and while fractionally smaller, that part was nearly invisible. In Headmaster Morris’s office, the boys had been placed in very small wooden seats, with no arms and almost nothing to support their backs. A thing that drove the knees up enough to make even a powerful man feel diminished. By the time Connor had been fifteen, two years before, the monthly headmaster visit had become near torture, just due to the seating available.

Stephen Harriman wasn’t trying to humble him nearly as much. If at all, from a psychological perspective. Just show that he was the one in charge of his little kingdom, with a display of riches and powerful design. The whole thing was meant to be intimidating. A thing that Connor didn’t particularly feel at the moment. After all, he had other things to worry over. Bigger things than his father being slightly disapproving of him. For instance, the man might be highly disappointed in him, which, given his schooling and the rest of his life, could lead to being either disowned or possibly shot in the head. There had been a few henchmen looking guards around earlier, all of whom probably liked to start the day with a good killing.

Not that it would really be anything that dire. Not for the obvious reasons.

After all, being kicked out of school, even an exclusive and expensive one, was sort of a right of passage for the children of the vastly wealthy. That Connor had never bothered doing anything like that before was probably a sign that something was rather wrong with him. Worse, he’d been removed from Etain for a rather strange reason. Nothing had been set on fire, for instance. He hadn’t even attacked and killed a faculty member, even though his training there had primed him for that sort of thing on a level that had made it closer than he wanted to admit.

Instead of frowning at him, the tidy looking billionaire put the ends of his fingers together, making a triangle. He was leaning back, to show a relaxed command of the situation. A learned power pose. A thing that he’d had in classes at Etain. So that he could both use and recognize when that kind of manipulation was used. Worse, he smiled at his son. A thing that looked dry and rather plain, instead of menacing. As if he wasn’t pissed off on a level that would require blood. Really, it had to be a setup, since even normal parents that loved their children would have had to fake being angry over the whole situation.

Not that his father could lie to him at the moment. He was too close for that to work.

“Connor. So good to have you home!” The words, for some strange reason, sounded honest. Genuine.

Which they simply were. Connor’s powers assured that. Not that it was the best super power in the world or anything like that. It worked though and while not the ability to fly or shoot lasers from his eyes, it was real enough. People near him, within about fifteen feet, told the truth. That effect got stronger the closer he was to them, meaning that his father, sitting not six feet away, was being honest. He was actually pleased enough to have him there. Even if it wasn’t something that Connor would have suspected as being real for the man. They weren’t close.

The man could have said nothing at that range, or omitted something, fairly easily. It wasn’t the same as being able to lie to him, but a person with a strong mind wouldn’t have to blurt out everything in their head. If they shook hands, a thing that hadn’t been offered at all, the older man would have been turned into a zombie. Not the undead kind that craved brains and loved to walk with a slow and uneven gait. Just a very honest one that would answer anything Connor asked. Without being able to even hide their darkest secrets from him. There was no fighting about it inside, either, from what he’d seen. People just spoke and answered as completely as they could at that range. Then, when they weren’t in contact any longer, after he moved back a few feet, the memory of the whole thing would be gone.

His powers had been tested, the day before, by a strange doctor that his father had at the house. If the teen girl, with her thick black framed fake glasses and oversized lab coat that made her seem like she was playing dress up, was actually one of those. She’d said so, and had been pretty efficient when it came to testing his abilities. That had included bloodwork and the use of large machines that Connor frankly couldn’t name to save his life. That might mean that she was what she’d claimed. Even if she was so nerdy looking and tiny that everything about her seemed off.

Not that he didn't think she was cute about it. In an awkward way that left him feeling a bit uncomfortable. After all, he couldn’t touch a person without them going still and vapid on him. A teen girl that just laid there, unconscious wasn’t going to be a lot of fun for him. Not past the first time or two, anyway. Etain hadn’t had any of those for him to experiment with, so there would be some novelty factor, he had to guess.

That his own father hadn’t even patted him on the arm was a pretty good sign that he’d gotten the full report on Connor’s new abilities already. Not that it could have really told him anything that Connor wouldn’t have. He’d been living with his new curse for three months already, after all.

At school, which had always been a place of secrets and rather horrible tortures, even before that. Nothing about it had been good. Not for him. Not for most of the other boys there, either. A lot of them had been treated far more harshly than he had, as well. Connor had been taught enough about psychology to know that what had been done to him had nearly broken his mind.

They’d used a series of complicated scenarios and training to turn him into a killer. A sociopath. For his own good, of course. It was a known thing that the biggest flaw in self-defense training wasn’t about lack of good fighting skills. Regular practice doing anything combat oriented was enough for most people. No, the lack of a will to harm and kill was the issue. Connor had been trained not to feel anything for others, so he could take them out if they came after him. A thing that had nearly ended the lives of a lot of people, in the last few weeks.

The man behind the ornate chunk of finely crafted wood went on, almost immediately.

“I heard there was a small issue there, at school?” The man seemed a bit phony, the way he spoke the words. Not just snooty, but as if he wanted to hide how much he knew, so was fighting to keep the words inside. It showed in the tightening around his lips. They didn’t turn white, but there was tension there.

Connor listened anyway. A thing that he might not have, a few months before. Not on the level that he had to now. People near him could only be honest with him. It changed things as far as what he needed to pay attention to in life. This strange man he barely knew meant what he was saying. That he’d heard about things… Also, that to him, it honestly was a small issue. Something that he could barely be bothered to care about.

Which was probably correct. Even to Connor it wasn’t that massive. The big portion, for him, was that his perfect disciplinary record had been scuttled at the hands of a rather upset headmaster. Not that the man hadn’t started the whole thing himself. Even at Etain, pointing a finger and yelling that he started it had never flown as an excuse. In fact, fighting, unless in a simulation room, was punished with electric shocks from the harness, instantly. By the time he’d been eleven, Connor had feared the pain so much that he’d rarely done anything other than what he’d been told. A few times, but even thinking about those things filled him with dread.

Instead of hedging, since it was clear his father knew more than enough to put things together, at least over time, Connor decided that lacing all the pieces in front of him into a pleasing, or at least coherent, pattern was the better plan. After all, if he neglected to mention something, it could seem like he was trying to hide things. That probably wouldn’t help him in the moment. Especially since everyone else around him was going to be forced to tell the truth. It would make any lie he told stand out even more.

Sitting up straight, a thing that he’d been taught to do his entire life, often enforced with electrical shocks when he was younger, if mild ones, Connor nodded, schooled his face to seem calm and a bit bland, then punctuated that with a smile. Something so fake that it didn’t touch his eyes at all. Connor really couldn’t manage that kind of thing, even if he tried.

“Small issues. For us. Some of the instructors there might find things not to be so tiny as all that. What with the prison sentences they’re likely to receive.”

Rather than wait for a response, he went on. Taking the initiative in conversation was a risk, but also allowed him to present things in the light he saw them. Besides, his Dad hadn’t even tried to interrupt or accuse him of anything yet.

“About a month ago, I was called in for the Headmaster’s chat. I don’t know if you get reports from that kind of thing… Anyway, that went fine enough. You have a report from Doctor Short on my… Abilities?” Calling his curse that seemed about right. It wasn’t perfect, but denying it was powerful in a strange way would be a lie.

There was a smile and a nod then.

“Indeed. That’s… Well, I could try to claim it’s a surprise, being so very different than what your mother had, but the truth is that there was a fifty percent chance of you showing something like this. I’ll explain that later, if you wish? Please, go on, though.” There was a wave of the right hand. It wasn’t negligent or sarcastic. Just a request that he continue his tale.

So he did, taking a deep breath first. Trying to think of how to present himself in the best way possible without lying.

“At that meeting, Headmaster Morris mentioned to me, in passing, that he was stealing from the school. To the tune of fourteen million dollars. He even included the banking information. Where he had the funds and that kind of thing, not the numbers to the accounts. I… Really, I didn’t care about that at all. I mean, I’d worked out that everyone was being incredibly truthful with me suddenly, and that the closer they got the more powerful the effect was. I told him that it was just between us, and meant it. It isn’t my money and come on, it was kind of cool that he’d bother to be that interesting, you know? Illegal, but lots of things there are.”

The words, interestingly enough, got a nod from the man behind the desk. His face lined, even if he wasn’t all that ancient. Only fifty-three. There wasn’t a single hair on his head, however and his face was clean shaved, so if there was any gray there, it was impossible to tell.

“You took his words as being presented in confidence?”

It was an interesting way to put the idea, but was close to what Connor had been working with. When people told him anything, he really had been trying to keep silent about it. At least he had been up to that point. A lot of it was much worse than a bit of peculation, too.

So he nodded, feeling a little subdued by the weight of it all, suddenly. His entire life was just too heavy to bother carrying. Which probably meant he was feeling suicidal, even if he wasn’t allowed to think of things like that without a sense of fear trying to overwhelm him. Not that it was totally working, at the moment. It had been coming at him in waves, for the last two months or so. His gift, if it were to be called that, wasn’t the one that he would have picked. Plus, he wasn’t an idiot.

Warped, possibly broken, but intelligent enough to understand what the world held for him.

If he couldn’t even shake hands with a man or boy without them going slack jawed and still, babbling answers to anything he asked, then his relationships with women, or men if he decided to go that way, weren’t going to be all that smooth, he had to think. Worse, even if he met a lady who was willing to put up with that sort of thing, she wouldn’t be able to recall having been in contact with him.

A thing which was no doubt great for date rape, without actually allowing a real relationship at all. Now, for the most part the fact that he couldn’t feel love anymore probably meant the same thing, but his power took away even the idea that he might be able to fake something like that, even for a while. Since he didn't aim to be the world’s best creepy rapist, the situation that way was looking to be rather dismal.

Instead of whining, since that could have a boy shocked by the training harness, at least at Etain, he nodded in response.

“Yes. It didn’t affect me directly at the time at all, so it was a confidence between us. The problem was that the Headmaster didn’t trust me enough. That was foolish of him. That lack led to him having drugs planted in my room. Pills and some white powder. Several pounds of it. Which I found out about before it was used against me, since the instructor that had placed them there informed me about it. We’d passed in the hallway, by chance. I managed to get them out of my things in time to prevent the police from finding them.” That really wasn’t the action that had him removed. A lack of drugs wasn’t illegal, after all.

Which his father, who would have investigated the whole thing, clearly knew. That was pretty easily read on his face. Not that it wasn’t under his control at the moment. The man, a practical stranger, wanted him to see what he was thinking and feeling at the moment. Clearly.

Going on, Connor tried to make his own face bland. As if the whole thing wasn’t a huge stress for him. It had been and still would be for some time. At least until after the trial.

“So, after that, I had to protect myself. I collected information, about Headmaster Morris and several of the instructors there, showing various crimes. Also, showing the men admitting to what they’d done on video, in rather a lot of depth. Then I put it up on the internet. None of them could recall having made the confessions, which didn’t really save them, after the fact.” The police had been sent copies as well, but not surprisingly, they hadn’t chosen to do anything about the abuse at Etain.

Not until public opinion had pushed them into taking action.

Stephen touched his lips with both of his index fingers, still making a triangle in front of his face. They tapped several times, bouncing in place, before he replied. The move was supposed to be powerful, but the body language told Connor that he was trying to physically hold back part of what wanted to come out.

“After which, even if he didn’t have enough proof or evidence for the actions, Headmaster Morris had you removed from the school. The rape of the other boys there was, of course, covered up. In part. The whole thing was rather public, so it made the news. You… weren’t part of that, were you? The abuse there?”

It was impossible to tell if he was asking about Connor having raped underclassmen or having been the victim of such himself. Neither was true, for him, thankfully. About a third of the boys there had done both, of course. You didn’t lock two hundred teen boys in with a group of pedophiles for several years without it having long term negative results. The rumors of such things were thick enough on the ground that Connor had learned of them years before. Even without his new abilities having come online.

After that had taken place, his abilities coming into play, well, he had a list of names and confessions as to what almost everyone there had participated in. Most of it was drinking and doing drugs, some petty theft and hidden violence. That and loads of gay sex. That part of things had been a bit annoying, to tell the truth.

After telling him all about their sexual adventures with the other young men at the school, most of the confessing lads had decided that being that open and honest meant they were attracted to him. Not that he was against a bit of a good time, but walking down the hallways and suddenly having a fellow student grabbing his behind or trying to work the front of his trousers behind the building, ten times a day was a bit much. Especially since all of them just froze as soon as they touched him. They’d made moves on him and then couldn’t follow through at all.

Also, he was pretty certain he was straight.

The idea of women was a lot more enticing to him at least. Not that he’d seen many of those in the last nine years. Mainly the mothers of some of the other boys there, when they came to visit a few times per year. So that kind of person, women, had been thin on the ground since he’d been sent to Etain, and pretty much abandoned there. The ten minutes he’d been in the office with his father was the longest time that he’d spent with the man in over four years. True, he was busy. There was always business to attend to, after all.

Other parents had managed to do better, at least coming for those annual visits and taking their children off on vacations a few times per year. When Connor had been free from school he’d literally been packed off to a camp in the woods. Nothing particularly fun, either. It had been years of wilderness survival training, in all terrains and conditions, when he wasn’t at Etain.

Then, when he was there at school, his life had been a combination of scholastic endeavors and intensive self-defense training. Mainly boxing and ju-jitsu, though there had also been regular weapons practice. Saber and epee, as well as shooting. Other boys at the school had similar training, though none of them were pushed quite as hard physically. Which had been paid for by his father, specifically. He’d been told that part several times a month.

Eventually the whole point of the program he was involved in had been explained.

That had come out rather quickly, after his powers had arrived. Instructor Billings had explained it to him, as they’d both started their regular morning run, alone. About how the life like dummies he had to kill each day, the men, women and children of all types, had been progressively made more real seeming over time, until there was almost no difference between what he stabbed, shot and beat with his fists and an actual person. In order to strip away any humanity he had left.

Realizing that he’d been quiet for too long, Connor smiled and shook his head.

“Sorry, I got sidetracked with other thoughts. No. No one did anything to me against my will and while I probably sucked a few more cocks than is strictly proper, and had the same done in return, they were all with consenting boys who were no more than two years older or younger than I was.” The words popped out rather glibly, even though they would have been punished at Etain, if anyone in charge had heard them.

For a bunch of rampant and unapologetic pedophiles, they were remarkably anti-gay. At least on the surface. Also anti-masturbation, for some reason.

The words got a snort from across the desk.

“Good. We can deal with that easily. If anyone asks in the future, simply tell them that what happens at an all-boys boarding school should stay there and laugh a bit. The press will likely be around, now that you’re out in the world and some of them will ask unfortunate questions. That part was a mistake, I think. Keeping you from the world and women for so long. There was nothing comparable as far as studies being offered in a mixed gender environment, so I had to go with Etain. A harsh place, in many respects. Also, the best at training young men in certain ways.” There was a wave then, and the man finally sat up straight. His posture less than perfect.

That single move showed that the strange man, who was similar in build to his son, was no taller. About six-two, the same as Connor. They were both rail thin, as well. With ice blue eyes and strong noses. Other than that, they looked nothing alike. For one thing, his son was several shades darker, having an almost golden skin color, compared to the pasty white of the older man.

Trying not to start a fight, since things were actually going better than he’d expected, with much less yelling and no hitting in particular so far, Connor cleared his throat.

“You mean the training harnesses and constant monitoring?” That last part was a lie, of course. They were told that they were watched constantly, but by the time they’d reached fifth year, every boy at the school knew that it wasn’t the truth. There had been cameras aplenty, but no one ever seemed to get in trouble for anything they did, meaning no one was watching.

The elder Harriman shrugged and made a gesture with his right hand again. Almost a flapping thing that was both inelegant and seemed confusing. It wasn’t the kind of thing that Connor was used to seeing at all.

“There are several places that use those methods or some variation of them to compel obedience from the pupils. No, I rather meant the other mental conditioning that you received. The lifelike simulations you practiced shooting and stabbing, along with the sounds of pained screams while you fought.”

Connor had been a bit sheltered in a way. For instance, while he knew what women looked like without their clothing, from biology class, he’d never spoken to one at close range for more than a few moments. Not until the day before, and that one had been strange seeming while she worked. Her clothing had stayed on as well, unfortunately. Not that he’d asked for anything else from her.

Still, Etain had been a school and expected constant learning and study. That meant he’d worked a few things out for himself, over the years. They didn’t hide a lot of information from the boys. They just tortured them into thinking what they wanted them to.

“The desensitization training? I’d wondered about that. I guess it will make it a bit easier to defend myself, if I’m attacked. Or… I don’t know, kill random people for no particular reason? That one too.” That had to be the point, since it had always been connected to fighting. At least for him. Some of the others had just been set to watch him stab or shoot the training aids, while the horrible screams played in the background and the harnesses shocked them if they dared to cry out. Mainly younger boys. Ones that had always been terrified by him after those sessions, even if he was really pretty nice, most of the time.

Across from him, behind the oversized desk, his father grinned.

“Indeed. Anyway, was there anything else about your premature graduation from Etain that you wanted to share with me?” The words were loaded enough that Connor snorted at the man.

It was rude and not what he’d been trained to do his entire life, but had just come out.

“Well, I did get into the Cayman Islands account of Headmaster Morris and remove all his stolen money. Only after I was kicked out, however. Before that I’d really intended to just leave him alone on that part. No one believed that he’d stolen the cash though, even with a video confession, or at least the police wouldn’t investigate, so I handled that for myself.”

After a brief moment, there was a slow nod.

“I’d wondered, to tell the truth. We found the bank account that Tom Morris was using but couldn’t trace it past that. Where did the money get to, do you know?”

There was no way to make it vanish without knowing, of course. The idea would probably be that it was in a numbered Swiss account or something similar, of course. Ready for him to spend on… Stuff. He’d never actually had money before, so didn't know what would be bought, really. Connor had the right account anyway, even if he couldn’t get much out of it. Not without a trip to Switzerland in person. Which wasn’t what had happened at all.

“It’s in the funds earmarked for improving the dining room. No one had touched or reviewed that for over a year when I was looking for a place to put it, so I figured it would be safe enough there, for the time being. What, did you think that I’d stolen it? I’m practically a super hero here.” It had been close, if he were going to be honest with himself about it.

The truth was that taking fourteen million dollars wasn’t worth the legal risk for him. His father had billions and while that didn't mean Connor did, directly, there had never been any hint that he wasn’t going to inherit or anything. Just ignored.

His father laughed a bit, then tapped a button on his desk, which caused the top to open up, a computer screen popping up vertically, along with a keyboard. They weren’t standard looking things at all, being creations of light and made no sound as he started to use them, instead of speaking again. Ten minutes later, the man pulled back, seeming satisfied with what he’d found.

“Not bad. I can actually report to the other parents where the funds are, then. Not that it will bring Tom Morris back. He had an unfortunate car accident last night. Murdered, just so you don’t get lost here. You don’t steal from those who don’t play by the rules. Not that you would have been in danger, if you’d taken it for yourself. No one wants to cross me.” He hesitated then, and even if the words were all true, seemed to be considering not saying something.

Finally, Stephen did it, looking directly into his son’s eyes.

“The instructors you showed to have been raping the boys will all be killed in prison, of course. Not that such things weren’t a service offered by Etain. It’s part of the religious training that some require for their children. Moloch worship, Luciferianism, Deep Catholic…  To break their minds and spirits into controllable pieces. I didn’t want that for you. Which is turning out to be a good thing, given everything. At least I think we’re on the same side, still? When the law refused to stop those who had come after you properly, I notice that you didn’t hesitate to take matters into your own hands. That’s an excellent sign. Our work isn't for the cowardly of the world.”

There was a nod from the man then, which seemed self-satisfied. Maybe a tiny bit smug. It was kind of cute, though not in a creepy way. Connor didn’t want a blowjob from the man hardly at all, he was nearly certain. Even if he had been being kind to him for the last moments. That thought got buried, since it was gross enough not to be considered.

“We, our family, is part of a very special organization-” There was a buzzing sound from the side of his desk, which was answered by the press of a spot on the top of the wood. No button showed at all.

“Yes, Clarice?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Harriman, but Mr. Laveen is here for his ten o’clock appointment.”

Looking at his son, the older man winced.

“I really need to see him about some matters. Nothing good, or I’d get you to stay for it. We need to finish this conversation. It’s important.” There was hesitation in the words, as if his son was actually more important to him at the moment than the business meeting he had scheduled.

Connor simply stood up. They’d covered most of the important things already as far as he was concerned. It would be interesting to find out what his family was getting up to, but that wasn’t important enough to let the idea of not doing that bug him. Also, more information about his mother would be nice. She’d died in the old house, the one that he’d lived in as a child.

Murdered by thieves that had broken in, while he’d slept. That she had some kind of power was news to him. He’d kind of thought that he was the only one with something like that in the whole world. It was something that had never come up at all in conversation. Then, given those conversations hadn’t happened at all, that might have been a simple oversight, instead of a vast secret or things being hidden from him.

“We could meet later?” Connor knew to say the words, though didn’t expect much to come from them. They hadn’t planned out a new school for him to go to or anything, yet. That left him at loose ends, really. Though if he was given a choice, he wanted to pick one that was a bit lighter on the idea of torture. Hopefully what he wanted would count.

His father stood, started to put his hand out, to shake, then smiled and pulled it back.

“Oh, right. That. Yes, though. We should be eating dinner at six tonight. There will be some guests in for that, but it would be good to see you there, if you can attend?” The words sounded like a request, instead of a command or order.

Which was a lot kinder than he would have expected from the man. Not that he’d always seemed cold or anything. It had been more that he’d simply not been there at all.

“I’ll try to be there, if possible. Thank you. It was a good discussion.” Connor thought so, anyway. The man hadn’t pulled a weapon out or made any threats. At the same time, he’d been polite and even considerate of his feelings.

Walking out the main double doors behind him meant passing a rather thick bodied gentleman in a very nice suit. He was thinning on top, but his whole head wasn’t shaved or anything. His tie clip was interesting, being a bit big. An eagle, with a large black jewel inset into its chest. Seeing him looking at it, the man nodded. They were about three feet from one another and the man didn't know to make himself not speak, it seemed.

“It’s a spy camera. I’m working with the government to entrap Mr. Harriman here, if at all possible. If this doesn’t work, we’re going to have to have an old girlfriend claim he raped her thirty years ago.” The words were loud enough for all of them to hear.

Laveen was still only a few feet from Connor, since they were both moving through the large double doors at the same time. Behind him, Stephen had stood up, still behind his desk, nearly twenty feet away.

He smiled at the words, instead of seeming upset. Then, rather clearly, lied. Smoothly enough to show it was a daily thing for him to do. Not that Connor didn’t hold to the same basic rule. He lied when it served him. That others had a problem lying to him didn’t mean he was going to give up the power of stealing another’s reality.

“They won’t find anything on me, I’m afraid, Leland. You know that I’m as honest as the day is long.”

The man in the door had stopped moving, his face frozen and moving from rather florid to a nice stark white, almost as if a drain plug had been pulled allowing all the blood out.

“That’s not what I know at all, Stephen. We’re all a bunch of crooks and you know it. Not that I’d be working with the feds if they didn’t have all that dirt on me. That tape I made, with the ex-president and his wife… The one where we ate that little girl?”

The words were bold enough, though followed by a sharp glance at Connor.

“Which I shouldn’t be saying in front of you. I… Don’t know you, do I?”

Connor simply shook his head. The information was gross, no matter what the new man had meant by eat. Worse, he was clearly an idiot, if he’d allowed tapes to be made of things like that. Not good friend material at all.

“I was just leaving. Good day.” He looked at his father, in case plans had changed that way. After all, if the man was working against his dad, then it probably meant Connor needed to help with things.

There was a smile though and a wave, from the older gentleman across the room.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” Then there was a soft wave at the door, which Connor pulled closed behind him. As he walked away, he noticed that the desk that held the secretary was empty. The woman herself, a rather attractive blonde lady, who was probably in her mid-forties, smiled at him, standing off to the side, putting together drinks. It looked like coffee or possibly a tea service. There were other bottles there, that contained wines, ports and from the look, scotch.

Connor had never been one for drinking, himself, but there had been classes on it at Etain, since knowing about that kind of thing could come up in business settings.

As he moved a bit closer to the woman, not able to help it if he wanted to leave the area, she winked at him.

“I really hate Leland Laveen. He always tries to feel me up when he comes. Disgusting man. I mean, he just looks greasy, all the time. It wouldn’t be that bad if he was just brushing up against me like most men do, but he always goes right for the crotch grab. First thing, just boom, right between the legs with a ten second hold as I have to stand there, pretending it’s funny.” She stopped then and went tight lipped. Stopping herself from saying anything else on the topic.

Connor nodded.

“That… sounds really annoying. Thanks for letting me know he’s a creep like that. I’ll keep that in mind.” The best policy, when told a sudden truth, was to simply accept it. Especially when you knew it was real.

So far, he knew that Leland Laveen was a crook and tended to feel up the attractive secretary when he could. As well as eat little girls, in a way he could be blackmailed for by the government. That probably meant he did a lot more than just that. No one got caught for the one thing they’d done wrong.

No, people were caught when they did hundreds of evil things, because they got lazy about it. That or they got unlucky, which was often close to the same thing. If they’d really only done one thing wrong in their entire life, then covering their tracks would be simple. People like Leland probably gave up caring about being caught at a certain point. Counting on the fact that no one cared all that much to even think about the cannibalism of a small child in a day to day fashion to protect them. Then they made stupid mistakes, like doing an illegal porn video with a President and his wife, and ended up under the thumb of people who clearly didn’t have their best interests at heart.

On the good side, Connor knew that about the man already. It would make dealing with him later far easier to handle. After all, he wasn’t going to become friends with the man then have to come to terms with how evil he was later. Connor already knew what to expect from him.

Stupidity and the consumption of props if they ever did anything on video. Also, the occasional over the top groping of the staff.

Clarice smiled at him, her lips still tight. Then she spoke anyway. Almost as if no one had warned the poor woman that being around Connor was dangerous if you were going to open your mouth.

“I don’t know why I said that to you. It’s true, but I shouldn’t speak out of turn like that.”

It was probably part of her job to keep her mouth shut, given who she worked for. Leland had pointed out that they were all crooks, after all. When he couldn’t lie about it.

Rather than fill the woman in on his powers, even though she probably deserved to know if they were going to meet more than occasionally, Connor stepped past her quickly, and moved out of range directly. Then he turned back to her, to see she was still watching him. Looking at the blazer he wore, with it’s obvious Etain badge on the front. A thing he needed to change out of, as soon as possible.

It had only been habit that had him putting it on that morning. Most of his life had involved wearing only one style of clothing, after all. At least when he wasn’t in the woods. In that case he normally had on some kind of hunting gear.

“Well, if you ever need to talk about things like that, I should be around. At least I wasn’t sent off to a different school just yet. I got kicked out of the last one, after a dispute with the Headmaster.” That left him feeling poorly, since he’d been a model student, before Headmaster Morris had started coming for him.

The man was dead now though, or so it seemed. A thing that… Actually, pleased him, now that he thought about it for a few moments. Not that he’d had to die for Connor to feel safe. It was simply that the man had tried to come for him, for no reason. That sort of meant the man deserved to die. Framing an innocent kid for that kind of drug possession would have led to decades in lockup. Sure, his father’s money might have bought him out of trouble. If it hadn’t, if he’d been the disposable object lesson of the week, then he could have been in real trouble. All so the man could protect a secret that, if he was going down for a long-term sentence, wouldn’t have stayed that way.

Which isn’t why he’d had that unfortunate car accident. That part was simply icing on the cake. Unlike the pedophile school instructors that were going to be killed in prison after they were tried for their crimes, who weren’t important to him. Connor didn’t care if they died or not. They hadn’t crossed him, after all. They’d been turned in to get attention placed on the Headmaster, nothing more. That the parents of the boys had hired the men to rape them like that was awful, of course.

Not that he hadn’t caught wind of such things, before leaving school. Everyone trusted him with their secrets, after all. That meant he’d heard things that he probably shouldn’t have, many times already. Even in the last few minutes, it had happened.

Waving, he smiled back at the woman as he walked away. She was interesting, after all. It was rude for Laveen to touch her, but Connor could kind of understand why he did it. There was a certain allure to the lady. An unspoken, but nearly tangible thing. One that he was pretty certain was called, breasts. It took a bit of will for him to turn and walk away, instead of noticing that about the woman with too lingering a gaze. She was there to do a job, after all.

Taking drinks in to the men who were probably having an interesting conversation just about then. When the door opened, there was shouting coming from inside. Meaning that the thing was nearly sound proof, when closed.

Interestingly, it wasn’t Stephen who was yelling, just the other man. Losing his mind, after having told the wrong truth, to the wrong person.

Thinking for a bit, Connor walked back to his room. A place that had been ready for him when he’d gotten in the day before. It held things inside of it. Clothing, wall posters for people he couldn’t recognize and several varied gadgets. All unpacked. All clearly brand new. Sitting on a desk, waiting for him to use them. The room held personality, which indicated a professional had done the decorating of it. One that didn’t know him at all. He was used to bare walls and very few distractions in his living space. Not that it bothered him to have objects to use.

He just didn’t know what all of them were.

Rather than play with anything, as interesting as that idea was, he changed from his now useless school uniform, into running gear. Sweat pants and a heavy shirt, along with trainers. Then, not being totally certain where he was going, being unfamiliar with his own home as he was, Connor headed out for a run.

That had been his habit for years, after all. First a run, then a swim in the pool. He didn't know if they had that kind of thing there at all. A pool. After all, he’d only been inside the building once, so far. The place was huge, and had a wall around the complex. There were outbuildings as well, but what they held, he had no clue at all.

He walked to the outside door, then jogged instantly, after that. The morning air was cool and damp, a low fog lingering in the area. It covered the huge gray stone building well enough to leave him feeling uneasy about the scene. As if it were a fantasy castle. One that held demons, ghosts and strange, probably mad, scientists. Once he started running, he sped up a little.

Trying to either stay warm, or just possibly, get away from his life.

Neither of those things really happened.

Chapter two

It was a slow and boring hour later when Connor started back toward the extremely large stone building. Calling it a castle probably wouldn't have been over the top for a normal person. Living in a castle would be, though no one had ever asked his opinion on the matter. Really, Connor had spent a lot more time eating bugs in the woods than in a building like the one in front of him. From the back it had five visible levels, complete with towers off to either side that stuck up. Not that majestically, since they only went one level beyond what was probably the attic space on the rest of the building.

The truth was that he'd never been all the way up there to see what was there. He'd only been at the house once before, since it had been bought after the death of his mother. While he was away at school. That had been about four years before, when asbestos had been found in the dorms at Etain. They’d had to close for three weeks to clean it all out, and no one had set up a trip to the woods anywhere that Connor could have survived in the middle of winter.

There hadn’t been nearly as many people at the castle back then. About fifty or so, all of them busily not paying attention in his direction, for the most part. He hadn’t been locked in his room or anything evil sounding like that, but his father hadn’t been there, being busy with something or other that didn't have a kid attached to it and the staff weren’t babysitters or nannies, so he’d been placed in his room with a strong suggestion that staying out of the way would be the best plan.

Not wanting to be shocked into compliance, he’d done exactly that at the time. Even if the Etain harness hadn’t been required wear while he’d been there. It hadn’t been in the wilds, either, which was the best part of getting away from the school, even if it was cold and hard at times to stay alive on his breaks.

The out buildings were all inside the stout gray stone wall, looking like smaller versions of the main house. Minute castles, missing only flags and draw bridges to complete the picture. Possibly some little dragons could have been gotten in as well, to sell the whole thing, if they wanted to push into that direction. So, interesting, while also being too much by far. Two of those small buildings were still nearly as big as his old dormitory building at Etain. That, the entire campus there, had been done in a newer seeming style. Red brick, with white columns to give the place an air of being educational.

Connor had certainly learned a lot there. Most of it being about how awful human beings really were. Even at the school there had been rumors about the rest of the world being better than it was there. Safer and not as painful. It was a thing that Connor thought might be true, even if there was nothing like that in his memory. There were some hints from his childhood, back when his mother was alive. A lot of that was hazy though and not clear at all. The brief flashes he got of the dark-haired woman from his youth painted her as lovely, but also kind of mean to him. Angry and wicked seeming. That and large patches of emptiness, instead of things that he’d learned at the time.

His peaceful run, a thing he enjoyed more than being punished for not doing, was broken up in an annoying fashion as the edge of the building was rounded. Mainly by the yelling going on. The drizzling rain and fog gave the scene a rather surreal air. Like he was outside of a real castle. One being invaded by wacky characters from a movie or television program. Connor hadn’t watched a lot of those, but had seen them a few times, so that he’d know what they were.

"Stop right there! Announce yourselves. Now!" The man speaking had three other black suited men behind him. All of them looked angry about their current job, which seemed to be about getting weapons ready and scowling. Each of them also had fine black ear piece in, visible due to their nearly matching, rather short haircuts. Those were very close to Connors own, more or less. Crew-cuts, or something near to that style.

At Etain the boys had short hair. It was a rule.

In front of the angry seeming yelling men were two people. A man and a woman. That or a very young man, who had decent curves at the hips and a hidden set of breasts under his clothing. They were both in blue work shirts, that said Lectricians Heating and Cooling instead of their names over the left breast. At least the logo seemed to match up with the red and white version on the side of the light blue van behind then.

One of the guards looked up at him, flinching as he did it. He was off to the side, the one in charge probably being the one in front, who had his hand on his waist, under his coat, ready to draw a pistol from a holster. That was away from Connor, so he couldn't tell what kind of weapon it was. The stance was familiar, since it was one of the things that he'd been taught to look for, in case he was ever attacked.

It was tempting to run away, since he was well dressed for it and that action made perfect sense to him. By training it was nearly one of his secret super powers. Not only would he fight at need, but he could flee with the best of them and not feel bad about it later. If anyone wanted to think he was afraid or a little girl, then they could, for all he cared. The problem wasn't fifty feet away though. He'd rounded the building and ended up right on top of the van, which put him not ten feet away from the two, rather suspicious, electricians. Grimacing a bit, he took three large steps forward, his hands up, so the men that worked for his father wouldn't shoot him as readily.

Not that they would understand who he was. Connor had been there so rarely that no one would be expected to think of him as belonging in his own home.

"Hello! Um, not to be pushy, but what's going on here?" Not that he really wanted to know. It would just be easier to have everyone tell him the truth than for the guards to do the same thing. Moving to where he was placed him only a few feet behind the black man and the white lady. The man was a bit older looking, though seemed fit enough. The woman was a bit chunky. In a cute way, really.

She had a nice face, when she turned around and started speaking to him. Directly and without hesitating or managing a good fake story at all.

"We're with the FBI and trying to trick our way in here… Really, this is being done on the fly and we don’t have a good plan at all. We also don't have a warrant and can't get one, since we aren't here officially. We put an asset inside, wearing a wire, but frankly this is an exploratory mission. That, the wire, went dead about an hour ago, when he went in. I'm truly about to lose my shit here. If he's dead, we're fucked."

That sounded a little bit different than he would have figured. After all, they had that great van, with matching shirts. There was even a tool box in the hands of the black fellow. He spun, staring at the female with him. Real fear crossed his face then.

"Jesus shit, Denise! They pretty much have to shoot us now!" He looked about ready to go for his own side arm, dropping the box as he threw his shirt out of the way.

Connor reached out, touching the man on the back. He'd been getting ready to pull the guy to him, even to hit him but that wasn't needed. The man just went still, his entire body relaxing. Before the woman could respond, Connor tapped her too, holding his right hand on her back.

The four guards pulled their weapons then. Of interest they didn't aim at him in particular. Even if they didn't know who the hell he was. It showed a certain intelligence from them really. After all, he was the one with all the FBI agents, holding still and not fighting, even if they’d been ready to a moment before.

Connor appreciated that. Given that his training had been designed to force him to fight instantly if weapons came out in his direction, that might not have ended well for him. There were four of them, after all. Even one on one against a gun was a death sentence, most of the time if you were unarmed.

"Um, how about we put the weapons away? These people won't hurt anyone." They couldn't, while he touched him.

The dark skinned man on his left moved then, lifting his shirt, placing the side arm back in the holster. It looked to be a thirty-eight, which wasn't that powerful as far as such things went. Not if anyone had bullet resistant armor on. The guards looked to be covered that way. For his part, he wasn't, just wearing gray sweat clothes for his exercise.

Really, part of him wanted to strip down and go swimming, due to long habit. At Etain, the boys didn’t wear swimsuits for that kind of thing. Probably so that the pervy instructors could get a free show and see who they wanted to sodomize later. It did make it easier to shower and move from one activity to another, he had to admit.

It was cool enough outside that his perspiration was uncomfortable in places, now that he'd stopped moving. Oddly sticky, even if the weather was wrong for that kind of thing. That these would be invaders didn’t take that into account before trying to get their man back was an oversight, no doubt. As if his minor comfort wasn’t the most important thing in the world, or something like that. He nearly had to shake his head, thinking that.

He made his voice calm and polite sounding, since that was what he'd been trained to do when under stress. Letting your voice raise under pressure would be instantly punished. Then you'd get a second jolt from the training harness if you screamed in pain. If you hurt, the best thing to do was to go as silent as possible.

"Why don't we find someplace a bit more private to talk? I'm certain that we can find..." He nearly said Mr. Laveen, since that was clearly the person that these two were looking for. It occurred to him that he didn't know if they had any recording devices on them. A wire, as they'd spoken of.

So he asked.

"Say, are you recording this, by any chance?"

The black agent looked at him, not bothering to shake his head or nod. People didn't, most of the time, when he was touching them. That he'd put the gun away when asked was interesting though. He'd asked people questions in the past, so knew they'd answer if he did it while in contact with them, even if they didn't want to. It appeared that people might also follow simple instructions as well.

Which was useful, in the moment.

The voice that came out was quiet. Not forced at all. Not angry or upset either. Just blank and dead sounding. Like he was drugged or incredibly sleepy.

"Naw. We didn't have time to set anything like that up. Besides, this is illegal. The whole op here. Enough that it can't hold up in court. We can try to retrieve an asset in danger, even without a warrant. The wire going dead might not count for that. If we go in based on that and he isn’t injured or dead, then the whole thing is against the law. Normally that wouldn’t hurt us much. We’re going after a billionaire here though, so we’re probably fucked."

The woman, speaking at the same time, just said a single word. Answering the question without a long commentary. Why that kind of thing happened he didn't really know. Probably that the man was smarter than the woman was. That or she didn't think of the topic as particularly important in the moment.

"No." Her voice was no more animated than her partner’s.

"Ah. Well, we should call after your friend, then. Do you have a name for him? There are a lot of people here. We’ll want the right one." Not that he'd seen them all, but interestingly enough, the dark-skinned man nodded.

"Right. Over a hundred and fifty at any given time. A lot of them suspicious, not just guards or employees. We're looking for Leland Laveen."

Without being asked, standing about twenty feet away from Connor, the man who looked to be the head guard for the moment touched his ear.

"We need a location and report on a Leland Laveen, if possible. He should be..." The man looked at the two agents, and spoke loudly.

"Do you know who he was supposed to be meeting with?"

No one spoke for a moment, the two FBI people just standing there, their faces looking a bit dumb. Slack and out of it.

So Connor repeated the question.

"Do you know who he was meeting with today?"

That got two responses, both at nearly the same time.

"Stephen Harriman. Our target."

Scowling a bit, head guard touched his ear again.

"He might be with Mr. Harriman." There was a pause, then the man nodded after about half a minute.

Everyone else there was a bit restless, except the two he was touching. They were calm and relaxed, almost drugged seeming. A thing that showed how cool he was, when it came to that sort of thing, Connor didn’t doubt. One tap from him was the same as going to a spa or taking the good drugs, except no one would remember it later. No one asked him what was up with that, he noticed. That probably meant they'd been told about him already. Being that they also kept their distance, that sounded likely.

After all, the two FBI agents were being held in place only by his hand being on their backs. It was working, but you generally tried to disarm dangerous people, it such situations. If they were there without a warrant, then they were just breaking in or trying to, even if they were with the government. The security there would be allowed to stop them, given that. Even if it meant holding them at gun point and stripping them of weapons.

Instead, those had all been put away. Meaning they were trusting in his ability to protect them all. It should. Even if he broke contact with them, they'd be too dazed to move for about fifteen seconds or so.

Head guard nodded after a moment. One in which he was clearly listening to something. Then, after another minute, he stood a bit straighter.

"Right away, sir." Looking at his men, then glancing at Connor, the man gave a single, choppy, nod. "We need to move them to Mr. Harriman's office. That will require maintaining at least fifteen feet from the man in gray here. I'll lead with Smyth. Babbage and Crinner are in the rear. Condition bravo." The fellow stopped, looked at Connor and actually explained. “That means we shoot if they try to run. If that starts to happen, get down as fast as possible. We won’t shoot at you, but bullets don’t really care who you are once they start flying. They’re very egalitarian that way.”

When the men moved, as if it were something they'd practiced. The men moving in behind them were a bit too close, given their orders. That showed when one of them spoke suddenly.

"This can't go well. Kidnapping FBI... We're fucking screwed."

It wasn't muttered and the man started to keep going, saying something a bit strange.

"The fat bitch has a cute ass though. At least the view won’t be all bad. We should fuck her first, before killing her."

The man in charge, who didn't have a name yet that Connor knew, cleared his throat.

"Back a few more steps, Babbage. Remember, you don’t have to talk. Even if you want to. Let's go."

That part was interesting, since Connor had to give orders for the two with him to move.

"Let's follow these men." That worked to get them to walk. The only issue was that they tried to stop every twenty seconds, if he didn't keep talking to them. Giving them specific orders. Simple ones, but he had to remind them to walk and follow the others or they’d just pause and go slack jawed again. It was a bit annoying, though the men with him didn't act like it was a problem. They didn't go fast, either, since it was harder to walk while touching someone on the back than it sounded like it should be. Part of that was subduing two people at once. Other wise he probably could have simply held hands with one of them, which would have worked as well. Plus, it would mean they were dating, which would be an improvement in his social life. Either of them were cute enough, though he had to admit that the fat bitch really did have a cute behind. Not that he really thought of her that way. As fat. She didn’t seem angry or mean, either.

Meaning they were at his father's office again about nine minutes later.

Clarice didn't go wide eyed when she saw the spread-out group walking up on her position. A thing that indicated she was in the loop as to what was happening, at least in part. Instead she just went to the large double doors and opened them, then stepped out of the way. A good ten feet, which she hadn’t bothered with before, even if Leland had used her proximity as an excuse to grab her crotch.

The space inside was similar to how he'd left it, except that Leland was sitting in the chair directly in front of the large desk, most of the way across the large space.

Given the layout of the room, Connor saw the best spacing for them all. It was a thing that he’d had reason to be aware of, for the last several months.

"We should sit over on the sofa, under the side window. Everyone else can go to the other side of the room, if that works for you?" That would put them almost thirty or forty feet away from him. Except his father and Mr. Laveen. His dad knew not to run his mouth though, and seemed to have the will to hold to that, even being far closer to him than that. Even the guards had done fine, as soon as they’d been reminded about his powers.

Mr. Harriman nodded and waved in that general direction.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, son. Why don't you and your new friends do that. I'll move, so we can all speak comfortably. Leland, you can stay there."

That put the chubby man in the center of the room, nearly fifteen feet from Connor. Far enough away that he wouldn't be forced to babble the truth if questions flew. Close enough that if he did speak, it wouldn't be a lie, either.

It took a bit of work to get his captives over to the sofa, where he sat between them. It was as close as he'd been to a woman in his life, as far as he knew. There might have been more when he was a child, though the truth was he couldn't recall it ever happening.

Oddly enough, he had been that cuddly with a fit black fellow before. Several of fighting instructors fit that build and even coloration, well enough. It was different, rubbing his leg against the woman, though. Interesting, even if the situation was kind of tense. She was softer and her scent was different, having a light floral tone to it. Plus, he’d never done that kind of thing before, so it was kind of fun.

There was little time wasted, with Stephen asking questions almost instantly. Things that he had to repeat, in order to get answers from the two people next to him. It was a thing that he hadn’t noticed before. When others asked question, the people he was touching both stayed silent. When he spoke to them, they answered instantly.

"What are your names?"

That had two answers coming at one time.

"Tim. Bowers."

"Denise Chan."

No one responded to the last name the white woman gave. She didn't have a wedding ring on but there was a tan line that showed she normally wore one. That was probably the answer. Not that Connor cared. Really what he wanted, more than anything else, was a shower. He felt gross. Unkempt and sticky. That and to get a swim in, if possible at all. Still, if they wanted the truth, him being there was probably the easiest way for them to get it. The other ways would likely involve torture, which would be recalled, instead of what was happening at the moment, which would be forgotten totally by his two new friends.

"You’re both with the FBI?"

The answers came easily, the only real problem being that they were coming from both sides at once. Finally, when the questions turned to exactly what they had on everyone involved, Connor changed things up a bit. Learning was important after all.

"Tim, why don't you tell us what you have on anyone here."

Agent Bowers spoke then, alone. It was much easier to follow along with.

"Not much. We have some crappy video of Laveen eating a baby doll. It's clearly fake. It has too many signs of manipulation in it to hold up in court. Plus, there’s a fake version of an ex-President and the first lady in it doing the same thing. Harriman... We were told there were some sketchy business dealings and maybe some kind of cult bullshit going on with him. It's probably just Laveen trying to cover his own ass, but we can't really get him anyway. We lied and told him that the proof we have on him was good. We're allowed to lie. Legally, I mean."

That news got several nods, one from Mr. Harriman and one from the head guard. Connor hadn’t really thought about it before. That the government was allowed to simply make things up to get at the information they wanted from people. That or to force compliance.

Tim kept speaking, his voice mellow and unstressed in the main.

"Chan here is sleeping with our boss. She doesn't think I know but I walked in on them about a month ago, with his cock shoved up her ass. In his office. I’m not the only guy there to have figured that out. They aren’t clever about hiding it."

There was no reaction to that news, from anyone in the room. Connor got that, since other than wanting to try that kind of thing for himself, he didn't really care if the woman was doing that sort of thing with her boss. Sex was fun, so judging others on doing it made no sense to him.

So he turned to her and re-asked the whole thing.

"Denise, what do you have on anyone here?"

"Laveen is in the clear, like Tim just said. He keeps trying to feel me up. I mean constantly. Not just once or twice. It isn't illegal. Just annoying. He's too ugly to have sex with and I don't want him touching me. Legally, we don't have anything. He was supposed to draw Harriman out, get something on the wire. Something jammed our signal. This is a bust. Now we'll probably die."

Connor blew some air out. That sounded like a good plan, except that people might notice if two feds vanished like that. Given they weren’t going to recall having told them about what was going on, it might not be needed.

"No, you won't. We'll just walk you off the property with Mr. Laveen. You won't remember any of this anyway." That got a nod from his dad, who seemed happy enough with that conclusion to things. Connor wasn't finished yet, however. He had a bit of life experience with that kind of thing, after all. It had taught him to be careful and complete in what he asked of people. Not perfect, but not foolish or lazy about it, most of the time.

The rather annoying issue with Headmaster Morris had also taught him a few tricks, after all. One of those was to never leave information sources unchecked. That, bothering to be thorough, had been how he'd uncovered who exactly had been raping the other boys, after all. Getting them on video had allowed him to have some leverage.

"Before we do that, I'd like you to list every crime you've ever committed. Start with the big ones." He had to go over that several times, since they started to tell the stories of each candy theft and bit of cookie banditry as children and both tried to speak at once, several times. Meaning he wasn’t as good as all that when it came to using his skills yet.

Plus, they seemed to think that the big crimes of their lives were rather different than he would have.

Both of them had raped people, but knew they couldn't be touched on the matters, for instance. They weren’t done using force and had happened too long ago to be prosecuted in the areas where things had taken place. They felt bad about them, interestingly enough so put those near the beginning. The two cases were similar, since they’d involved having sex with a passed-out person that hadn’t given permission to do things with them. From the nodding, at least one of the guards, well across the room, had done something similar to that himself.

Tim had murdered two different people in his career. Those looked legal and were known things, but had been hits, set up by other people in the FBI. One of them had been a former commander of his, who had been taken out in a friendly fire incident. A thing that was oddly common in FBI shootings. Most people thought they were all bad shots. Bower wasn't.

Still, the man felt like cheating on his taxes was a bigger deal, so spoke of that first.

Denise mainly focused on the fact that she didn't just have an affair going with her boss. The woman was doing three other men at the office complex she worked at, for instance. She'd also slept with her own brother-in-law and a stock boy from the grocery store she frequented. Or used to. She'd stopped going there after they'd broken things off.

It wasn't until she'd mentioned that she'd hidden crimes for other agents that they got anything interesting from her, however. As soon as she stopped listing that kind of thing, Mr. Harriman smiled.

"That should be enough, thank you both. We need to get these busy people back to their day. We have video of all of this, which should be enough to prevent further negative action. Also, Leland, I highly suggest that you reconsider your cooperation with these fine people. They don't actually seem to have anything on you at all."

There was a nod from the man, who seemed a bit shocked by that news.

"I did it though… That tape is real. A bit older and the quality isn't great. It was one of the feast days. I don't know how the FBI got it. If it gets out, it could bring us all down. Not that I set you up because of that. I just couldn't think of anyone else I could get to talk to me about something big enough to distract them."

He was telling the truth, of course. The man would have been better off keeping his mouth shut. At least Connor wouldn't have let him live, after setting him up that way. Even if it turned out not to be anything of note. Then, it was possible that Laveen and his father simply weren't that close. A business contact setting him up might be normal in his world, or something. A close friend would be too much for Connor, though. Besides, the man was practically dating both Clarice and Denise. At least he kept grabbing them in a way that put him far too close to them and hadn’t been arrested for it.

Not that he was going to mention that part. After all, the only way the FBI agents would go away was if they had Laveen with them. That kind of required the man to be alive. At least for a while.

"Let's stand up."

Moving the pair out of the house was just as difficult as it had been getting them in. To make it harder, Laveen walked behind them, with two guards watching him directly, holding him by the arms. As if the man were going to try to escape, before they kicked him out. Mr. Harriman didn’t follow along, but the head guard had thought to bring a writing pad and pen. It wasn't until the everyone loaded into the van that Connor understood why.

The suited fellow drove, with Laveen in the front seat, next to him. Seeming uneasy. The other guards stayed behind for some reason. Not that the agents were being a problem for them to handle. Even when he'd lost contact with them as they moved, they’d just kept walking. Not that it had happened for more than a few seconds.

Inside the van was packed with equipment, which was probably meant to seem like it was for heating and cooling repair, to a casual observer. It would have fooled him, Connor had to admit. Close up the stuff seemed a bit old and worn. For all he knew that kind of thing was what it took to do the job in real life, however.

The yellow tool box had been put in the back, which he ended up kneeling next to. Staying far enough back from the men up front that the one on his side didn't end up babbling about all of his own thoughts or secrets.

Leland didn't take the hint, so they were treated to a full litany of what he was planning. It involved fleeing the country, attempting to survive having openly betrayed one of the Order. That part, that the big deal had to do with the Order, came up several times.

Connor finally cleared his throat, a minute or two later, as they left the walled compound through a wrought iron gate. The thing looked somber and dire, as it moved to the side to let them out.

"You might want to stop telling us your plans, Mr. Laveen. Really, you probably want to change them, as soon as you get away from the FBI, later. Remember what you just said and do something totally different that you didn’t share with us."

The words got a laugh from their driver. It sounded sinister, at least to Connor.

"No shit. Everyone be silent now."

They managed that and only drove for about another minute. Then, as soon as they pulled over, near some bushes, the man in the dapper black suit, who looked to be the most muscular person with them, pulled the pad around.

"Let me see... Dear Sir and Ma'am... Sorry about the missing time. While you were out, you admitted that you didn't have anything worth investigating at the Harriman compound. Also, you admitted to several crimes, on video." The man made a soft noise then. "Hey, Harriman Junior, do you remember exactly what they said? It will be better if we can put some facts in. You know, to prove we actually have some dirt on them. Before we kindly suggest they back the fuck off."

Connor could, of course. Not all of it, since he'd been busy making sure he didn’t mess things up too much. Enough that, working together they had a nice sheet and a half for the agents to read. As soon as they came around.

When that was put up, Connor nodded.

"Okay, I can leave through the back. We need the door opened first. Then I get about fifteen seconds to get away from them. Maybe longer. I've never held on to anyone for this long before. They won't remember anything." At least that's how it had worked so far. The guys at school never recalled that he'd even been there with them. It seemed to take out a bit of what happened before he touched them, though he had no clue how long that would be.

Probably whatever time frame short term memories were stored in. At least it made sense that what he was doing was stopping those from being able to form. No one had studied that, as far as he knew. It was something to contact that short girl doctor. Not that she was little or anything. Her name was just Doctor Short. She was probably five feet even, which was a fine size for a woman. At least he assumed that. She’d been cute enough, in a dorky looking way.

Without suggesting anything, the back of the van was opened from the outside, the single door being held, off to the right-hand side. Pushing his twin burdens forward a bit, Connor propelled himself back, nearly tripping, since his legs had fallen asleep from kneeling for the whole trip. Plus there was the yellow box of tools for him to nearly trip over. Not badly enough to make him go down, just enough to create a bit of clumsiness. He caught himself and moved to the left, which was away from the road. There were bushes there, which he headed for, half running in that directing. Hobbling along, as if crippled. Then he moved faster, since after the door slammed, his black suited cohort in crime followed him. It was work to keep the fit man from catching up with him. As soon as they were about thirty feet away, behind the cover that was proved by the foliage in the area, the man held up a single fist. Signaling him to stop.

Then he held his hand flat to the ground, which meant that Connor was supposed to lie on the fresh leaves. The man did it himself, even if his suit was going to suffer more from the damp grass they were on than the gray sweats were. Once down, feeling exposed, they didn't move, even as the van left, about ten minutes later. They didn't speed away or anything. It was just driving. Probably after discussion of what was in the letter that had been left to help keep the FBI agents out of trouble.

When they were out of sight, the other man grunted and stood.

"Not bad. Especially since we didn't have anything planned out ahead of time. We should get back. Keep to cover as much as possible. Under the trees. Just because these two didn’t have backup doesn't mean they won't be able to review satellite footage later. I'm nearly certain that blackmailing federal agents is a crime, even if they’re guilty." There was a smile to go with the words, as if it were mildly funny.

Connor just stood up himself and nodded, trying to walk from the cover of one mostly denuded tree to another. All the leaves had already fallen. Still, inadequate concealment was better than none at all. The day was cloudy, thankfully. It would prevent most of the spies from above from seeing them clearly, if at all. Still, even with that, he did what the man told him to. Mainly because he was used to taking orders. Even strange seeming ones. Plus, his survival training really had covered things like avoiding satellite observation. It wasn’t the first time he’d done the same basic exercise.

They had to keep some distance between them, and didn't speak as they jogged back to the compound, not talking again until they were let back inside the gate off to the side of the compound. The guard had to vouch for him with the men that opened the thing.

"This is Harriman's son. The one from the briefing packet. I was guarding him as he went on his daily run. Next time I'm wearing something a bit more appropriate for this. The kid can move."

That got a respectful nod, and the men didn’t ask why they were both wet all down their fronts. Connor just dropped in place, as soon as the gate closed and started doing pushups. He needed to anyway. His kidnapping pal did the same thing without hesitation. Explaining their state, to anyone even casually looking at them.

"Give me ten more. I know we worked this already. Then I want twenty sit-ups."

That was light, compared to what Connor was used to doing, though he threw himself into it. To prevent the pain from coming. Not that he had an Etain harness on. He hadn't really needed one for years, after all. Fear of pain worked just as well as the real thing, after a while. As soon as he was finished, he surged to his feet, the other man nearly matching him in it. Then they jogged off, the guard behind him.

When they got to the same side door that the van had been parked near, the man actually made a pleased sound.

"You’re good. You didn't drop the cover we’d come up with at all, even if it doesn’t make sense as to why we’re doing it. I'm Walker. I head security here for the compound and Mr. Harriman’s protection."

"Connor. Nice to meet you, sir." The words were what you were supposed to say when you met someone new. Not that he'd been as polite earlier in the day, with Mr. Laveen. Clearly his cuddle friends Tim and Denise didn't count that way at all, since they wouldn't be recalling their time together later.

His words had the man nodding almost instantly.

"Meet me out here tomorrow at seven, we'll run further than this. I might bring some of the others along, since we need to exercise anyway. This is a little late in the day, since I need to make up the schedule and check all the posts at ten. Keep that in mind for next time? Earlier is better for my schedule." The words were almost friendly sounding.

They were also arranged in such a way that, if anyone was listening, they really could sell that they'd been out for a regular run that morning. Though it was probably close to noon already.

"Yes, sir. I'll be here. Now, I should go and shower. I get doing the other exercises, but I can't love the weather right now."

That got a laugh.

"Just wait till the ice and snow comes. You'll learn to love a little bit of misting like this. Good plan though. Get off to the showers and make sure to eat something. You're thin enough we don't need to starve any weight off of you." Then, as if that made any sense, the man walked away, his suit still messy.

Into the building though, where hopefully he could get his own shower.

Getting clean and dressed in a new suit, one that fit perfectly and was hanging in his closet, Connor had the next adventure of the day. Finding food. He knew where to go for dinner that night, having been in the room before, but not how to find a simple mid-day meal. It probably wouldn't be held in the same place. Just sitting and waiting in his room wouldn't work, either, he had to imagine.

Even if it felt weird, walking aimlessly around his own home, looking for someone to instruct him as to where to go, he retraced his steps to the far west wing, where the tiny girl doctor had studied him, the day before. It was either do that or go and bother Clarice. Either would have worked.

Something drew him to the younger, glasses wearing, person though.

Half expecting her to not be there, he found her sitting with her door open, visible from the hallway. The space she was in was large, being thirty by sixty feet or so. Most of it was filled with various equipment. Not all of it looked medical to him.

Glancing up, the girl, who had clear skin and a thin, somewhat long face, smiled at him.

"What's up?" She didn't sound upset, in particular. Just abstractly interested.

He smiled back, since that's what you did if you didn’t want a rather strong jolt to the lower back.

"Um, lunch?" He was about to go on and explain his predicament, not being able to find anything, when she nodded and stood up.

"Good plan. We can chat about all the interesting findings from yesterday. Some other things, too. I missed breakfast, so I'm starving. Come on."

She led the way, which worked for him. In her hands were several manila folders and a rather clunky looking gray data pad. Seeing him look at it, she snorted. She was only about ten feet away from him, meaning under the effect of his curse.

"These things look ugly, but are totally secure and hardened against emp. I'll get you one, eventually. It's all in house, but the library is pretty good here. That just means that you can’t get online for your porn needs. We have good files that way, for your viewing pleasure. You know, for when you masturbate?"

The words had an honest, but slightly wicked sound to them.

Connor sighed.

“I can’t do that… At school we were punished over the very idea, so often that even thinking about touching myself other than to wash leaves me shaking in fear. Worse, they didn’t take away my sex drive at all, so I’m kind of stuck. I mean…”

The Doctor winced and then nodded.

“That’s fucked up. You can’t really just get a handjob from a friend, either, given your powers, so… That limits things for you a lot. Well, we’ll figure something out. We won’t leave you hanging.”

She didn't pull away after that, but didn’t move any closer, either. They walked for a while, until they found a small dining room with thirty or forty people in it. Serving themselves from a buffet.

That worked for Connor, since he'd missed breakfast as well. Even if he was suddenly day dreaming about handjobs. From the tiny woman next to him, as it turned out.

Chapter three

They didn't get that close to each other, once they sat. They took up their own table however and it was a good five feet across. Meaning the woman wasn't going to be telling him any lies that day. Also, that she wasn’t acting like a zombie or being forced to speak. A thing that didn’t seem to bother him in particular. At least she didn't seem awkward about it or like she wanted to get away from him instantly.

She looked young still. Too youthful to be the doctor she claimed. A good year or two younger than he was, at a guess. She wasn't dressed up to impress anyone, either. There was no makeup or bright colors being worn. In fact, she still had her plain white lab coat on. Under that were blue jeans, running shoes and a black shirt that hugged her small chest. Denise the FBI agent had been better endowed that way.

Clarice the secretary as well.

Which reminded him of his manners.

"Sorry, Doctor Short, I... Should I get your first name or is that not..." He honestly didn't know the rules that way. Basically he was asking if he was just a research subject for her, or if they were planning on being friends. It would have been perfectly fine for her to insist on being called doctor, of course.

Rather than slap him down or signal the proctor that he needed to be corrected, the girl smiled.

"Bertie. Short for Bertrude. So, you can see that I'm pretty much stuck on the nickname front. At least in polite company. Now, I hear that I have some real winners with the others, that they only use when I'm not around. The best one right now is Doctor Nerd Girl. I’m keeping that one as my super villain name."

Connor was used to his friends having awkward first names. His wasn't that bad, but half his school friends had names that were family things or even their mother’s maiden name. Duke and Elsworth were the lucky ones. That and Dave. David had been a popular name at Etain, for some reason.

"Got it. You're my buddy Doc from now on." He smiled, since giving him her name didn’t really mean she wanted to be friends in particular. She just couldn't lie to him at the moment. If he’d asked her to list her crimes she could have not spoken, but if she did everything she said would be honest.

Still, she nodded.

"I can call you Connor? Mr. Harriman might be a little confusing, if we have two of them around here. Especially if one of them is going to claim to be my new pal." She took a bit of a noodle dish that looked good enough. He had some, since his plate had largely copied hers. That meant there was no meat and a lot of carbs. The dish in front of him was a bit sour, tasting of buckwheat and lime. Astringent being its main attribute, after the first bite.

He didn't react to that, simply eating, since it was what his plate held. If given a choice, he wouldn't take them again. The rest of the salad seemed far more normal. Greens and plants of various sorts with a thin dressing. Plum was the base of that, he thought.

About the time he looked over at her, the girl was wiping her mouth. A look of disgust on her face.

"Okay, that tastes like crap. Still, this is the employees’ dining room and the food is free, so I can't complain too much. I do wish they'd step up their game a bit. It isn’t like cooking is rocket surgery or anything. Anyway, I was going over the numbers from the tests yesterday. Have you ever asked anyone to do anything in particular while under the affect of your field?"

He got to nod then, having done that earlier in the day.

"This morning, in fact. They, people will walk around and perform simple tasks, as long as I’m touching them. For about twenty seconds, then I have to remind them of what I want done."

Taking a bit of chopped green salad with cucumbers and tomatoes in it, the woman nodded, happily.

"I thought so! It should work on basically the same level as everything else. At about ten feet from you, people will tend to do what you want, unless they don't want to for a real reason. Then they can probably fight it. If they're already willing to do it, then they probably won't have a problem with anything you ask. Pretty much the same as when you ask people questions. So, if you yelled at me to do jumping jacks in here, I'd say no. I hate those things."

Plus it would be rude to the other diners there.

"So, if I suggest you eat more of the awful noodles you wouldn't, but if I recommend the salad, you'd take a bite?"

He'd done neither of those things, but there was a nod, as she took a bite of her greens.

"Exactly like that. Apparently. So, you couldn't just order me to strip down and kneel. Well, I mean, it might work if we were alone, but not in here. I'd resist that. On the other hand, if you wanted to borrow money, I'd just fork it over. I have about twenty-six dollars and change on me, right now."

Connor didn't ask for it, even if it would have been delivered. He didn't really need it. His accounts held more than he ever spent, anyway. Not that he'd ever had a chance to do much of that before in life. Everything had been provided for him at school. He'd never gotten to go on any pleasure trips like the others, either.

Off in the forest or mountain tops he'd eaten bugs and small animals, most of the time. Vendors of other types had been rare in those locations, for some reason. There were no squirrels selling cars or anything. He could drive, of course, since it had been a class at Etain. What he didn't have was a license to do it legally.

"That's a bit different. That people will kind of want to do what I ask. I guess I need to be careful that way from now on. Not that I won't ask if you want to do what you suggested, if we're alone some time. Kneel and all that?" Not that he particularly wanted to have sex with a woman that wouldn't remember it later.

Rather, he wanted the sex portion of it. Kind of badly, if he were going to be honest about the matter. He really needed some kind of relief that way, and soon would be better than doing it later, if he had a choice in the matter. It was just that it would be annoying for him to be physical with a woman who wouldn't even recall it later. Plus, he didn’t know exactly what to do. He'd had some contact with a few boys that way, but that had mainly been either sucking each other off or using their hands.

Some of them had done anal with each other, but it was too hard to find lubricant for him to ever risk that kind of thing, himself. Most of them had used bits of oil or even butter stolen from the dining hall for that kind of thing, or so he'd been told. He'd always been very careful not to steal anything if he could be caught, since you could be punished for it at Etain.

Harshly. Worse, the rules weren't always doled out evenly. What would get one boy shocked into a near coma would be waved off for someone else with barely a verbal warning being given. It was consistent though, as far as who got kinder treatment, however.

Connor had always been roughly in the middle that way. If his manners failed or he did more than grunt manfully when injured, he was hit instantly. On the other hand, he didn’t know if he'd have been hit for being a few moments late to a class. Even as a child he'd worked out that letting that happen wasn't worth the risk.

There was a nod from the other side of the table. The only problem was that he couldn't remember what he'd just said. His mind had wandered too much. Another thing that he could have been jolted for.

Doc winked at him.

"We can do that. I mean, you're cute enough. Not dazzling that way, but clean and in shape. A bit young for me. Plus, it isn't like I'll have to remember it later. I can't get pregnant. The eggs ran out about... Oh, a hundred years ago? When I was forty something or other." She shrugged then. "Before you ask, it was an experimental serum that I made, back in the day. Using a particular plant that only grew in one spot in the forests of India. I'd noticed that all of the animals that ate it seemed to rejuvenate. What I didn't get at the time was that they became younger and totally stopped aging. I have the only cultivars left. Not that I need to use it. I'm pretty much stuck this way." She ate a bit more, waving at her body with her other hand.

That news was interesting, since it was both true and meant the woman was strange. Special as well. Plus, old enough that he didn't have to feel bad about having sex with her, as long as she agreed first. Which probably wasn't true, but was still about what he was going to have to go with. Masturbation wasn't allowed, and he wasn't going to be able to last much longer without some kind of relief.

"Hence being a doctor while looking sixteen. Neat. I also look this way. My issues are totally different, I'm afraid. Not that you don't know that."

There was no speaking for a bit, since someone came toward them. A woman who looked at them questioningly, as if asking permission to dine at the same table. Connor just shifted to the left, so that the woman wouldn't end up stuck way too close to him. She was slightly older looking, which didn’t mean much at their table. She was probably in her late twenties, which was pretty youthful for the room they were in. The rest seemed to be in their thirties or forties, at least in looks.

Unlike Doc, she was made up, her clothing tight across the front, over her rather ample bust line. She was cute as she sat down, but a moment later she seemed lovely. Her face didn't change though, it was simply that she was somehow more compelling, suddenly. As if he were going to burst if he couldn't have her, right that moment. He was totally hard, in the region of his pants. Even if she was attractive, which she was, that was a bit over the top.

The incredibly old woman, looking like a teen nerd girl, rolled her eyes. Matching the younger body, instead of the old and staid mind within. She didn’t speak though, as Connor tried to recall his manners. The fear of pain was enough for him not to respond out of turn.

After a moment, shaking his head a bit, he took a deep breath. Which made the whole thing worse. He literally started to throb, painfully, in a way that had never happened before. Like he might just split, if things weren’t taken care of immediately. He understood enough about physiology to know that wouldn’t be happening. Also, to take a guess at what was going on.

"Pheromones?" It was just a question and Connor had to guess that he was probably wrong.

Doc Short laughed a little and nodded.

"Bingo, my hormone filled friend. Caught out already, Parker. You might want to dial them back, before he has to run away, given everything. Besides, I already made a date with him for later, so, clearly, don't freaking cock-block me. I'm sure we can share. He’s a teen boy, which means that he has love to spare, I’m willing to bet."

The feeling didn’t suddenly go away, but as Connor tried to get his reaction under control, the woman went from being the most interesting person he'd ever met back to simply being attractive in a normal way. She had to reach into her handbag to make that happen. Meaning the trick wasn't strictly biological. At least not inside of her body.

Though, he hadn't wanted to have relations with her bag, or even Doc, the moment before. Just her. That spoke of something complex and related to her in an intimate fashion.

Smirking a bit, the new woman nodded.

"Okay. I suppose we can do that. Share? I'd heard that Harriman's kid had come and worked out that the new boy must be him. So, I can't get in on billions just by hitting you with a bit of tickle juice? I'd be sad, if not for the fact that it's kind of impressive that you managed to resist that. Still, Bertie... Well, I guess if you like them geeky, you can't go wrong picking her. A bit flat up top though, don't you think?" Her words were a bit mean. Clearly what she meant to say though.

Which was interesting. She didn’t seem to be fighting not to speak at all.

Across from her, Doc smirked a bit, having worked that part out for herself.

"You probably won't need to trick him into bed, Parker. He's seventeen and just coming back from a situation that's basically been eight years of prison. Maybe a psycho concentration camp. The trouble is that if you touch him, you won't be able to remember it later. Still, you should do it. Just, you know, safe sex. I don't want to have to treat him for the clap. Not that you aren't clean right now, but being a nympho for a living leaves you a little open that way. Though, I do have a new treatment that might help with that, if you're willing? It's safe on animals at least. You too, Connor? It really should help. Against almost any kind of disease. At least for about twenty years. After that you’re kind of screwed, if you don’t get a booster. It’s worth doing, since it’s basically a super power."

She was about to go on, when phones started to ring. Almost all of them in the room. Connor didn’t have one, so felt slightly left out for the moment. The whole space rang at them, with music playing in the mix, as well as the sound of bells and buzzers at the same time. It was nearly painful.

Pulling a small black unit from her coat, Doc tapped the front then stuck it to the side of her head. Everyone else was doing the same thing. The big difference was that, while they all got up and started moving toward the door, she actually waved at him.

"Come with me, back to the lab. Meet me there in five minutes? We need the hallway to clear before you go through. We're all supposed to get to duty stations and you don't have one of those yet." She stood as the other woman, who still looked sexier, rolled her eyes.

"Why would some kid have a duty station? Even if you’re rich. Running errands or something?"

There was a nod from Doc Short then.

"That, or interrogation. He's one of the best that way. Maybe the best, in the whole world. Plus, he's top end, intelligence wise. We can find a place for him here."

There was a shrug then, from the other woman as she turned to walk away.

"Really? I wasn't told about that. Either of those factors. Well, anyway, Connor, we can get together later and fuck? Even if I won't remember it. We can tape it?"

He nodded, since it was a kind offer, if not one that he could trust. Even if she were clean for the time being, he hadn't had that shot yet. The drawbacks were there, of course, if it only lasted for twenty years. From the way it sounded, his own immune system would be gone about that time, so if it couldn’t be updated, he really might end up screwed.

Seriously though, while he wasn’t able to try and kill himself, he had to figure that he was going to not live all that long, if he could help it. He was too isolated from others and while honesty wasn’t always bad, a life without being close to anyone wasn’t one that he wanted, long term. The idea that you had to survive, no matter what, had been hinted at in school. Without being something that had been tortured into him, specifically.

For a moment, the idea of putting a gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger was comforting. If things got too bad, he had a way out.

Everyone else left the room, while he counted. Not having a watch, it was the best he could do. The orders had been to wait five minutes before making his way to the lab, so he counted to sixty, five times, then got up and worked through the hallways, keeping his distance from everyone as he moved. No one rushed him personally or anything, though he did have to run a few times to get out of the way of security as they charged down the hallway.

Before he got to the lab, Walker saw him in the distance and waved.

"Right, you just got in, so no duty station."

"I'll be in Doctor Short's lab. Running errands… or doing interrogations. Whatever comes up, I guess." That had worked well enough earlier in the day at least.

The large security chief smiled, a bit dismally.

"Good call. I'll log where you are, in case it comes up."

Then, carefully, they passed in the hallway and he jogged the rest of the way into the laboratory. A space which had changed, since he'd last been there. The desk was along the far wall and a set of different equipment moved on its own, rolling into place, as the more medical seeming machines hid themselves away in the back. They all had wheels. Now at least.

Seeming to have pride of place was a large glass fronted box that seemed to be a refrigerator of some sort. Inside were what looked like thousands of vials, bottles and syringes. At least from what he could see from twenty feet away. The room wasn’t tiny at all.

For his part he stood in the doorway, until everything else stopped moving. Just in case it couldn’t tell he was there. That or was programmed to run over annoying people that might be in the way. That one made all too much sense to him, so Connor wasn’t going to test the idea.  Doctor Short saw his sensible action and winked at him again.

"Close the door and stay about twenty feet from me. I might need to get creative, which your field effect precludes. That’s the down side to the truth. It’s boring."

That made sense, even if he'd never thought about it before. People telling the truth couldn't make things up very well. So, if the woman was going to be creative about her work, it might need to be without his being too close to her. Plus, she might want to lie to him about something. At twenty feet that wouldn’t be possible though, since the cut off seemed closer to thirty feet as far as his ability went.

Seeing a wire framed bench along the far side of the room, he moved to it, not sitting at first, since it was easier to see what was going on over the equipment that way. Not really knowing what was going on, watching and figuring it out sounded like a great idea.

There was no speaking for a while, then, almost suddenly, after tapping on her pad for a long while, Bertie started calling things out. Not ignoring him at all.

" Ah… Got it. We're under threat of a biological attack. That means we need to coordinate from here, in part. Security and standard medical, meaning not me, will have the needed supplies for it. We're going into lockdown, so..." She tapped a button on her pad, then looked at the door as a solid metal sheet slid into place from the side. There was a heavy sounding clanking to the whole thing. As if they weren’t easily going to be walking out of there if things didn’t go exactly right. "Our job will mainly be in breaking down and fighting the virus, bacteria or fungus that the sensors get a reading on. Not that I don't have the cure for it." She grinned then. "In my superior and wonderful refrigeration unit, over by you? On the top shelf, on the right, there's a tray with twenty syringes on it. A pale blue liquid. Get one of those. Hurry. I made them for you, specifically."

He walked quickly, hoping he had the right unit from the description. There were needles in it, as suggested, so he took one out, as the woman glanced over at him.

"That's the one. I had one of those earlier. Drop trou and stab that into your butt cheek. Go about an eighth of an inch in. Don't hesitate. Being afraid of needles is for little girls." She grinned for some reason, as he took his pants down enough to get the job done. It hurt, which didn't stop him at all.

Pain wasn’t an excuse not to do something, if you were ordered to.

The ancient lady doctor smiled at him once the plunger was home.

"Nice. Most people would fail to get the job done, if suddenly hit with doing that. Diabetics generally have to take hours to run up on doing that the first few times they try it. Good to know I can count on you to do things like that, in a pinch. That's the compound I mentioned to you and Parker, earlier. The one that I printed out for you earlier. It’s a viral nano hive. Something new that no one else has. Complex. It will protect you from pretty much anything you might encounter. It can also do a few other things, which will help us, I think. Both of us. At least once it takes hold. That will take about a day and a half. Before then you can catch monkey pox just like anyone else. So, you know, make sure you don’t kiss any infected monkeys, before that."

Putting his clothing back into place required setting the syringe down. The cap was back on it, to prevent any more stabbing and there was a special bin that the used needle needed to go in. He managed to find it, since it was clearly labeled on the top, with a sign that said he should toss any used needles in there. The orange bin was nearly empty, but did have a few other things in it. Medical waste, mainly. That and a candy wrapper.

That was something he only vaguely recalled from childhood. Candy.

He used to like it. At least he thought that was the case.

Connor still liked sweets. Things like fruit and once a year, cake, on his birthday.

After that, he stood for a while longer, listening to Doc mutter, since she seemed to know what she was doing. After about an hour, she turned to him and made a soft, choking sound. It was laughter, instead of a lethal virus having gotten past the air scrubbers.

"Well, we were actually hit with something, which is a first around here, if you can believe it. It's Ebola-pox. A combination of hemorrhagic fever and small pox. Clearly a version built by a true genius, who is also at least decently good looking. You can tell from the work done on it. From the look of things they tried to spray it on us. Just flying over and hosing us down, as if no one would notice that happening. Which..." She tapped a few button on her clunky looking silver data pad and then chuckled. "Is easily fixed. Beginning auto sanitation now. You might want to close your eyes and mouth. Not that we were hit in here. Even if we were, the shots you and I have had would protect us before it killed us, since that would take about seven days. We’re golden. It’s just everyone else that we need to save here. The inside of the building gets done at the same time the outside does, so we don’t have a choice. This is going to suck. On the good side, we actually know what’s going on! Here we go."

Connor didn't ask if she were being serious, just following her instructions, closing his eyes and mouth. A moment later a fine mist hit him. Where it came from he couldn't tell, but suspected it was the ceiling from the feeling of the cool pattern that ran over him. He wasn't trying to breathe it in, but enough got into his nose to let him know that it wasn't pleasant smelling. Bitter and slightly burning, where it touched his skin. Worse inside his nose and lungs. That subsided after about ten seconds, however.

Then his new doctor friend coughed a bit.

"Gah. I managed to suck some down into my lungs. It won't hurt me, but that's a bit less than pleasant. How about you?"

"I'm good. So, that's it? We can go out now?"

Looking over at the woman, he saw the expression on her face. Under her black, thick rimmed glasses. There was much wrinkling of her nose at the stupidity of his statement.

"Nope. We're still under attack. I mean, someone with a high-tech base just tried to hit us with mother fucking ebola-pox, kid. That means it wasn't the government or some foreign power. None of those lame asses have the technology for that or the need to hit at us that way. I'd guess it was one of the tech coalitions." She stopped then, and shook her head a bit. "Those are secret groups that are way ahead of what average people know about as far as technology goes. They aren't the only groups like that. There are some religious groups, secret societies and all that. Most of them are largely on our side. That doesn't stop the occasional attack like this though. Normally not one this silly though." She glanced at him, still standing nearly thirty feet away. So she could have been lying.

Which would have been foolish of her, since he'd eventually get closer to her.

"I mean, I put together this particular strain. About fifteen years ago. It's been changed a little, but it's my work. The bones are the same, which is about as good as a fingerprint. Which means that whoever did this is sending a warning my way directly or they don't know I'm here. That's possible, I suppose. I haven't left the building for, oh, nearly a year. Not that I'm a prisoner. Just boring that way. I haven't been laid in a lot longer than that, even if my hormones are young and full of life still. So, yeah, pretty boring."

The words were abstracted, being muttered as she worked on her data pad. Several things, large pieces of machinery, moved around the room, almost on their own. Trundling over toward her at times, and away at others as she collected things and moved them around, the complex devices whirring and causing things to happen in ways that Connor didn’t really understand.

More to the point, they did move on their own, without even making a sound. It meant he stayed out of the way as it happened. After a while, Bertie looked up again, and jumped a bit when she realized he was just standing there. As if he'd been forgotten.

"Oh! Nothing else is coming at us at the moment. We were painted with silent drones. Invisible ones, which is decently fun. Camo, rather than light-diffraction, so a little low rent. It works, if imperfectly… Here, I have the thermal scans on it." She held out her pad, for him to come and look at. Connor did it, stopping about three feet from her, which had her biting her lips, trying not to speak. That or she was giddy about something and trying not to laugh at him. From the hint of smile on her face, it really looked like that one, even if it couldn’t be.

The video really did show something in the sky, a thing that looked hot and indistinct, cooling the air as a spray was released from it, over them. He could see one of the towers off in the distance.

Moving back, the doctor took a deep breath.

"Thanks. I was just about to give my opinion on certain things here. The kind of thing you don't want the boss’s kid to hear you say. You know, how your dad bangs his secretary three times a week and all that?"

Except that wouldn't be the case. If it was, then Clarice would have mentioned it to him herself. Really, confronted by the man's son, it probably would have been the first thing she'd said. Instead she'd mentioned that Leland Laveen was a bit too familiar that way.

Meaning what she’d wanted to say was something very different than that.

It probably wasn't about him, either, or she would have mentioned it at lunch. That partial meal that hadn't really done the trick for him. Not that he was going to complain about being a little hungry. On occasion the school had withheld food for up to three days at a time, to teach them not to whine about small deprivations. That had happened during his survival training as well, several times per year, so he was used to the idea.

After a while, he sat on the wire bench, well away from Bertie. It wasn't that comfortable, since his behind hurt where the needle had been stuck in. Hopefully the shot the mad scientist had him inject into his tender flesh wasn't going to hurt him too much. It might, of course. Even if it was exactly what she claimed it to be, which was pretty certain, it could still kill him. Her, as well, from the sound of it. That Doc Short might be just a little bit loose when it came to safety procedures was simply clear. She'd taken that experimental serum a long time before, after all.

That she might do the same thing to him only made sense. Still, it had gotten past animal testing, and doing it to humans was the next obvious step. Plus, he seemed to live at a place that came under biological attacks now. That meant he'd probably be exposed to things later on, being caught out at some point. It was a good way to test things, really. Even if he was left without an immune system twenty years later. If it worked, it was probably worth risking that part of things.

On the good side, it could have some kind of strange side effect and take his powers away. Not that it would. Getting lucky like that would be too hard to even run the odds on.

It was tempting to ask if she wanted to try something that would require contact, except that he already knew the answer. The one that he'd have to enforce in the moment, regardless of what anyone else thought on the matter. They all needed to have clear heads in case an attack came again. Especially her. It made sense to him that a biological attack that required a lockdown might be a good way to delay the people there. That or to hold them in place, for a second attack.

"Something nuclear or... Well, a large explosion. That would be too obvious, if the attack needs to be hidden. I don’t know everything that could be used, clearly. Something that would get around the lockdown here? An EMP wouldn’t be enough. Not with almost everything here being hardened like you mentioned earlier."

The words just came out, seeming unrelated to anything else. They were almost muttered, which was rude of him.

His new friend made a low chuckling sound. From her expression she wasn’t thinking about how stupid he was being this time, at least.

"No doubt. Just what I was thinking myself, in fact. We're well and truly locked in here for the time being. It would be a great time to hit us with a second blow. We can't just leave, either, in case something was missed in the disinfection. If a hospital had been hit this way, they'd all be dead inside a week. Heck, the CDC would be struggling at this point. There are about six places on the planet that could have handled this well at all."

Connor nodded, getting it.

"So, either we're dead inside the next hour or so, or this really was a warning about something. Which I know nothing about. I think my Father mentioned something he wanted to tell me, earlier. About the Order, do you think? One of those secret society groups?" He didn't really know, but instead of mocking him as he deserved, speaking about things with too little data, Doc just smiled at him.

"Not a real point, if we die in an attack. If I wasn't needed I'd suggest we have sex, to pass the time. At worst we'd get to go out with a bang, right?" She was relaxed about the whole thing and it was kind of clear she wasn't all that interested in actually doing that at all. At least she barely looked up from her pad. She was inside twenty feet of him, so was probably being honest about what she might like that way, which was nice to hear, in theory.

It wasn't what would be taking place so Connor simply squirmed in his seat a little bit.

"Well, later then? If you want, I mean. You really won't get much out of it, so I can see not bothering."

Still working, there was a nod.

"True. Still, one of the things you learn if you live long enough, don't leave people hanging. If they have needs and you can fulfill them at little to no cost to yourself, then freaking do it. It costs a lot less in the long run. Besides, it won't be the first time that I've done things that I didn't remember later. I mean, there is that slightly creepy thing where you're my great-great grandson, but if that doesn't bother you, it doesn't bug me."

She just left that sitting there. As if he wasn't going to ask about it, later. Or right then, because it was sort of a big deal. Gross, as well.

"Seriously? Is it wrong that I'm considering it anyway?" He wouldn't do it, if she were actually family. Not because he cared, either. Etain hadn't allowed a lot of things, but the idea that some families had sex with each other was kind of normal there. It would be strange for her though, at a guess. Though possibly not, since she was the one that had brought the topic up. While he wasn't totally certain, Connor was starting to suspect that a lot of what he'd been taught at school was more than a little different than most people learned.

There was a snort from the youthful seeming old woman. It hid a laugh.

"No, not really. I was just trying to be funny. Also, yeah, pretty messed up, if I was actually your granny. Sicko."

Connor was still going to ask again, later. When he was closer to her. Even if she was playing with him about it in the moment. One way or the other. Really, it seemed like she was already too close to really lie to him well. It could be that, being old, she was managing things that most people simply hadn’t yet. That or she’d worked out some way to block him and hadn’t bothered to tell him about it yet.

The door opened then, with a click and a hiss coming from the hallway. The air that rushed in wasn't any fresher than what was inside the room. It smelled the same, actually. Like medical disinfectant. Something else, as well. A darker thing, that had a metallic tang to it that hid inside the other, bolder scent.

"Well, hopefully we can make the place smell a bit better before dinner time?"

That seemed likely, since the air sucked out of the room then.

Through vents in the ceiling. He didn’t know if that was normal, but as the air became thin for a moment, he thought he saw Doc grinning. More than a little bit manically.

Chapter four

The air replacement cycle didn't take him, or the tiny Doctor, down to the ground. It was close though, with a lot of gasping and panting in the thin air. Only for a few minutes, while everything inside the building was stripped out and purified. Then air rushed back in, with his new, probably insane, buddy holding her hand up. She spoke, but only briefly.

"There are three." That was all she got out before the next round of air cleaning took place. That time the smaller woman had to sit, not able to get enough oxygen to keep going.

On the third round Connor went down to the floor himself.  What didn't happen was going all the way black, though the world had gotten a bit sparkly and dim at the edges. Everything felt electric by the end as well. The unpleasant kind of tingle that meant you’d done something terribly wrong. Thankfully in the wrong places. His fingers, hands and lips were buzzing. The whole place smelled of copper suddenly, as well. That might have been from a chemical used to clean the incoming air, of course. It could also have been from blood leaking into his nasal passages.

He stood first, though didn’t talk, since there didn't seem to be any real reason for it at the moment. Bertie got herself up from the floor just as several dark suited men with oxygen masks on ran into the room. At first, for a moment, Connor nearly started fighting. It was only when the men spoke, showing that they were somewhat familiar, from that morning, that he managed to hold back.

Not that he was in any shape at the moment to really put up a good struggle. It would be happening though, if anyone came at him too aggressively. His training had forced that kind of discussion out of his hands. Thankfully, no one had a firearm out. That would have been too much, he had to admit.

One of the men, Babbage, spoke first.

"Evacuation. We'll have exit vehicles here inside five minutes. Don't take anything with you. Nothing. Go to your designated areas for that. In five-minus. Go!" Instead of pushing them to run, the two men turned and jogged out, probably to inform everyone else of what was happening.

For the first time since he'd met her, Doc stripped her white lab coat off and started walking toward the door, rapidly.

She stopped at the door when she realized that Connor wasn't moving. The woman was clearly intelligent, so he didn't have to explain the obvious to her.

"Crap. You haven't been assigned anything yet. I... Normally I'd tell you to get with your father, since that makes a certain sense. Kids travel with their parents. Even for us. Only... He'll be in the elite movement section. Worse, we can't really pack you into a bus filled with people. Especially under stress conditions." She grinned at him then, and relaxed, visibly. Her shoulders moved downward and there was a slow exhalation. "I'm being hit by you full out right now. Which means that your field grows under certain conditions. Ideally, we want people to run away while not being turned into zombies. I'm almost going down already and I'm over forty feet from you. Really..." Her words slowed, her body going still.

As if he were touching her directly.

Rather than stand there, trying to relax at the moment and figure things out like a rational human being, he started running, doing a bit of math. If he was taking people down at forty to fifty feet at the moment, it was possible that there were people over nearly a half kilometer from him that were suddenly only able to tell the truth. During a life and death crisis. That meant he needed to get away from them. Fast.

That or calming down enough that the effects went back to normal. He was tense, so tried to let go of that, in case it would do anything at all. It didn't seem to. At least Doc Short was still stuck in the doorway, looking younger, without her official uniform jacket.

Worse, when he got into the hallway, pressing his body past her. It was clear that people all up and down the hallway were already just standing in place. Not moving at all. Instead of getting away in their vehicles or whatever the plan was. While, for all he knew, a fresh attack was coming in.

Jogging, he started to leave. After a moment, he just ran, as fast as he could manage, heading for the front door of the place. Which was a mistake, as it turned out. Honestly, it was two mistakes, both at the same time. First, because everyone he neared just froze, not moving at all. The second was due to a group of black clad, very well armed and armored men, who seemed to be trying to rush into the building. They weren't shooting anyone, so were possibly extra security, rather than an attack force. The problem was that he didn’t have any real way of knowing that. Their uniforms were real looking, but unmarked.

They all froze in place as he saw them, then went still, as if they were two separate actions. Without even thinking about it, looking out of place in his blue suit and black tie, he ran toward the side gate, which was open, the men in the booth waving at him as he closed with their positions. One of them stepped out yelling.

"Get in your exit vehicle! It's faster!"

It really would be, except that it wasn't going to work, for the moment. Still, he managed to get much closer without the two men going totally still, which probably meant whatever he'd been doing inside the building had stopped already. On the good side, there was no sounds of shooting or screams from the people he'd abandoned dying at the hands of the new troops.

He didn't stop, calling out.

"My field activated. Too much. I can't ride in a car or bus right now. The driver would go down. I need to get away from here. Where... I can hide. Are there woods or..." He knew that the area had green spaces, since he could look over at the low hills and see that they were surrounded by trees and brush. Things that were heavy enough for him to survive in, even given the cool late fall they were having.

Rather than doubting him, or pulling a weapon, which would probably force a fight at the moment, the man on the gate simply looked away, then touched his ear, and spoke. Too low for Connor to make the words out.

After a moment, the man pointed, off to Connor's right, which was the back of the walled complex.

"Back there. Go a mile out and don't let anyone see you, for a day. Then come back here, if you don't hear any explosions. It's not going to be a comfortable night." The man swallowed, as if that kind of thing was going to be impossible. Cold, since he couldn't afford a fire if anyone might be looking for him out there. There was no snow on the ground though, and he could survive it, even if there was. At least with the amount of clothing he had on. Not a perfect outfit for it, but close to what he’d worn a few times before in exercises.

He didn't stop jogging though, calling out on his way past.

"I have my orders. Twenty-four hours, then back here. If that isn't possible... Then I'll try again in a week." After that he'd need to do something else. There wasn't going to be anything to eat of note at that time of year. Not without having some kind of hunting gear. He grinned. "I didn't even pick up a pocket knife. Stupid of me."

The man that had been talking to his upraised hand waved then. Getting him to stop.

Then he dug in his own pocket, and tossed a small, closed, silver thing to him. It was warm when it touched his hand.

The fellow rubbed at his face, his short hair not moving at all as mist fell on them.

"I want that back, if at all possible. It was expensive."

The folded blade wasn't huge, but did feel solid. Connor nodded at the idea, not letting himself get too close. He was twenty feet away, and the man didn't zombie out on him, which was a good sign that he wasn't going to be stuck, taking down anyone he was too close to for the rest of his life.

"Understood. What's your name?"

"Wallace. Go now. We're going to have this place cleared in ten minutes. Twenty-four and then back here, if it's safe. If not, then do what you said. I'll pass that on."

Not staying to find out more, even if it was tempting, he just fled then. Not looking back. Not even wondering how Bertie had managed to lie to him about being his great-great-grandmother. That or she’d been truthful then and lied about it being a joke, later. After five minutes, he hit the tree line that had been in the distance. Then he kept going, since his thermal and I.R. profiles wouldn't vanish, just due to some bushes.

Normally his first plan would have been to find a good camping spot. One with a stream or river nearby, if possible. Running water was generally safe enough to drink, as long as it wasn't too close to a city. Given it was falling from the sky at the moment, he was probably going to be all right that way, he had to figure. Anything that could make a water tight cup would be enough to make a collector. Not that he'd die after a single day without water.

The trick there was that the instant you knew you didn't have water, you had to stop eating food. Setting up to hunt was a poor plan, which left foraging. Again, a day without wouldn't hurt him at all. He'd done more than that several times a year, for the last eight. That gave him two priorities. The first was a need to build distance from possible attack.

That would probably need to be about five miles, unless whoever was coming had superior search technology. That or thousands of bodies to put out after him. In that case, he wasn't going to make it. They'd find him before the time limit was up, easily. All he could do in that case, was flee.

As soon as he stopped for the night, he was going to need a survival shelter. One that could keep the worst of the water off of him, if possible. His suit jacket wasn't going to keep him warm, once it got soaked through.

The trick would be to plan out how to be as invisible as possible, he decided. That kind of thing had been covered in his survival training. A lot of it had been dedicated to the idea that he might have to run away and hide out for a time. Just as was happening at the moment. He'd always figured it would be more personal, Connor had to admit. Kidnappers wanting to use him to get at ransom money. That or to kill him in revenge for something his family had done in the past.

Really those had been the only reasons he'd ever come up with, as for why anyone would be after him, with a strong leaning toward the ransom one. At the moment it sounded a lot more like he wasn't even going to be an afterthought to anyone trying to find people from the compound. Not as someone to find in particular. The Harriman name would, no doubt, make anyone that found him probably think he was a young cook or dishwasher, if they associated him with what had taken place a few hours before at all. Jeans and t-shirt would have served him better than a suit, for that. Anyone might be out camping, or even lost in the woods. At least if they weren’t in a blue suit, with a black tie on.

Even if he wasn't close to his Dad, the idea that the man might spend a few dollars to get him back probably wasn't all that wrong. If nothing else it would look bad in the news, if he didn't at least try to get his kid back from someone that had taken him.

On the good side, if anyone got too close to him, he could probably get them to stop. As long as they didn't just stand back and shoot. Which meant keeping to the trees was the best plan. That gave him cover and concealment, as well as a chance to run, as long as whoever it was didn’t just bomb the area. In that case he’d be dead, of course.

Given he was willing to die, that was fine. Not that he was giving up just yet.

Three hours later, as night fell, he had a small shelter built up. Mainly of pine boughs over deciduous tree limbs. It was tied together at the top of the small lean-to, using his tie. That had been cut into strips, then twisted for strength. Then, almost burying himself in small pine branches, inside the little dwelling that was just big enough to look like a pile of detritus, Connor went still.

He tried not to move too much or even breathe. Not that he feared that bugs, bears or bigfoot were going to come for him in the night. All of those things would be safe enough for him, given the time of year and the area. Bears were, interestingly, the biggest danger. If he had it right though, they wouldn't be thick on the ground. Bugs couldn't take the cold. Not that he was doing poorly that way, at the moment. His thick nest actually held the air still enough around him. Which would allow heat out, but slowly and if he'd built the thing correctly, slowly diffuse the pattern, so he wouldn't look like a man just lying there. Instead he'd seem like a deer or possibly just a warm spot on the ground. A large lump that wasn't really important.

As far as he could tell, nothing moved in the forest that night. A few animals made a bit of noise. No Sasquatches tried to crawl in with him or take him away to be their new mate, so that part seemed to be working out for him. There was no sound of machinery or people calling out search orders.

Which could simply mean that whoever was after him was just good, or working with tricks that he didn't know anything about. That was why he didn't even leave his little branch pile, until daylight came. Even if his bladder was threatening to rupture for the last five hours.

He slept, of course. There was nothing else to do and he was used to doing that wherever he ended up. When he finally left the structure, he relieved himself quickly, barely able to see in the raining morning. That part, the rain, had held off through the night, thankfully. It was annoying to be wet during the day. Doing it at night was just miserable.

After collecting his tie bits back up, making certain to scatter his nest, since it would be too easy to tell that someone had been there otherwise, he carefully jogged to keep warm. Moving from tree to tree, finding the pines and firs to prevent being picked up on satellite too easily. Or from a lower flying craft, which was far more likely. There were some of those, though, to the best of his ability to tell, they were staying closer to the castle like house in the distance. Circling it.

Just openly flying over and around the thing. That could mean almost anything, of course.

The day was tense. He'd slept, but was hungry and thirsty enough that he actually made a point of finding some water to drink. That was pretty much just licking dew off of some non-poisonous leaves, for the time being. Then he went back to keeping in motion.

At what he figured was about twenty-four hours, Connor headed back. There was a large open area between the edge of the woods and the side gate that was his rally point. If anyone had remembered him at all. The low flying craft had left, so at least that part felt a bit safer to him. After watching the gate for nearly two hours, a large delivery style van drove up, and parked. Then, two men got out and stood there. Dressed in dark clothing.

Feeling more than a little exposed, Connor left the woods, and walked, with his hands up, toward the two men who were waiting for him. They didn't draw down on him, simply waving from a distance. They didn't stop him at thirty feet or anything. The men also didn’t go down or freeze, even as he closed beyond that. Though, by that time, he could see it was Walker, the security guard that ran things and Wallace, the one that had lent him his silver pocket knife.

Which he still had. The weight of it was comforting in his pocket. It really had helped, in making the shelter the day before.

It was the slightly older, larger man, Walker, that spoke first, taking a few steps forward, before recalling that he couldn't really risk moving in too close.

"You aren't injured?" That would be a mess, since no one could touch him to help, if he was. A thing that suddenly sent a thrill up his spine, when that idea hit him. If he were ever sick or hurt, he either needed to care for himself, or death would be the most likely outcome.

It was a thing that had literally never occurred to him before. Not even when he'd had to give himself a shot, the day before. Which made him feel better, as soon as he thought about it. Sure, that didn't help if he got hurt, but he functionally shouldn’t get sick, until his immune system failed in twenty years. Not that Doc had mentioned that part clearly. She’d just told him that the nano virus hive would stop working. The rest just made sense.

"I'm doing well, thank you. My field strength seems to have gone back to normal now. I think it was doing that yesterday, by the time I hit the gate here." Which would mean he was safe to ride in the truck they had there, if he tucked away in the back. Closer, if they didn’t mind sharing some of the secrets with him.

Not that he knew the plan at all.

Walker smiled at him. At least it seemed to be one of those. A movement of the lips that seemed cool and soulless. Connor wasn’t going to throw stones about it, since he couldn’t really do that one either. His eyes didn’t move at the corners when he grinned, even when he meant it.

"It turns out to have been a false alarm. The reason we evacuated, not the original bio-attack. That part was real. Everything is fine here, that way, but we're still staying at other locations for the next seventy-four hours. Several of them. Mr. Harriman asked for us to come and bring you in. Actually, he suggested we send a full team for it, but Wallace here told them you had a tiny knife and a game plan. That got them to calm the fuck down after a while. Oddly enough when your father found out you were that well prepared. The man has faith in you. Which seems… Warranted, as it turns out." There was a grin from the big fellow then. "We have food and water in the truck. All in plastic, which will eventually kill us, but we can’t afford to be picky about it. Not if we want to reach the second location on schedule. Everyone else got to fly in, before you ask if they got deluxe accommodations like you’re getting. Still, we have sweets, just inside the door there."

Connor nodded.

"Sure you do. Come into the creepy kidnap van, little boy. We have ice cream and a fresh puppy for you to play with." His tone was a bit sarcastic, which he pulled back from at the end, even if he was tired, hungry and thirsty at the moment. Mainly due to fear of an electric shock hitting his back. Even without the harness on under his clothing. He could still feel it.

Instead of making fun of him, or starting to bark orders, Wallace chuckled a little bit. Walker didn't, just nodding.

The man in charge, his clothing looking fresh, compared to the wrinkled and dirt covered blue that Connor had on, actually seemed pleased.

"No shit, right? We don't have a code word for you… If we’re not who we say we are, or have turned as part of the attack, then going with us is insane. On the other hand, it occurred to me on the ride over here that you can just ask us if we have good intentions or not." The man took four big steps forward, bringing himself about ten feet away. Wallace stood back, not doing the same thing, however.

"I was sent to get you, by your father. As far as I know, this isn't a bad thing in any way. That could be a set up."

Then he moved back and gestured for Wallace to do the same thing.

"I have the same order and thoughts on things. We're headed to the charlie fallback position. There should be enough food and water in the van for a week, for all of us. We'll only be driving for about two days, though. We have fresh clothing as well. Disguises. That kind of thing. Oh, I also want my knife back." He grinned and moved away then. Not totally out of range.

It was possible that they'd worked out a way to tell him the truth without it being the whole thing, of course. While they were men he recognized from the day before, no one had ever really explained their positions to him or anything. Still, at ten feet, they were going to be honest with him. That really did help, as far as assurances went.

"Right. So, I just get in the back? On the floor?"

That, the far back, had an actual seat in it, with a restraining belt in case of an accident, just inside the door. Past that was mainly open, with cardboard boxes and several large coolers lining the sides. The boxes were labeled, which was helpful. There were clothes, food and water clearly marked out.

The two other men stopped before doing anything else and changed as well. Just into regular shirts and jeans. He got something similar, if in a smaller size. That and a heavy tan jacket that was warm, if not stylish or decorative. It seemed to be made of canvas, or a material similar to that.

As soon as they were all dressed, their other clothing, what they’d been wearing, being packed away in a box for safe keeping, they took off, with Wallace driving for them. Walker, all the way in the front, nearly twelve feet away, called back.

"The food isn't exactly gourmet. We do have plenty of it, so grab some if you want. Water as well. All in plastic bottles and wrappers, like I said, so try not to let that get you down. I'd like to keep the stops down to a minimum, if we can. We'll need to refuel and use the head. If you want something we don't have with us, there will be limited shopping. Don't use a credit card or debit for that. Those can be tracked. We have cash."

Pulling one of the boxes that said water closer to him, leaning down to do it, instead of walking forward, he opened the plastic bottle up and drained it. Then did another, stopping after that, since he didn't need to be peeing every ten minutes if he could help it. Still, being dehydrated wasn't going to help him much either.

As they drove, he sat, quietly. As he'd been trained to do for nearly a decade of his life when not required to speak and act normally. There had always been a strong division between the two times at Etain. A thing that had been strictly enforced, if with disapproval from the instructors and upperclassmen rather than physical punishment, for the most part.

Finally moving a bit to get something to eat from one of the food boxes, Connor approached cautiously. It all looked strange to him, being filled with boxes that held some kind of sweet cakes, from the pictures. Things with bright pictures on the front to let him know what was held within and in some cases cartoon style characters. Cupcakes, Twinkies and Suzy Q-s, mainly. Also something called Honey-Buns. Those looked like breakfast rolls, which were a thing that he’d had on rare occasions at school. There were multiple large packages of the things. Instead of risking those, he moved to a box of military rations and started in on one.

The thing wasn't good. On the great side Connor had eaten them before, a few times per year, since it really had been part of his training. They weren’t meant to be enjoyed, just good enough. It was filling though and had calories. His job at the moment was to make certain he was ready to survive. If that meant eating the cold paste like food from a well sealed package, then he would. It was already dead even, which was a step up, if not two, from some of the things he'd been required to eat, over the years.

When he finished that treat, using the tiny moist towelette that came with it to clean his face and hands, it was time to wait again. He hadn't thought to bring anything to read, being new to living outside of the confines of his school. It was a rather clear oversight on his part. One he was trained to deal with, by reviewing the actions of the day before, in case he could glean anything from his memories of the events.

Mainly it was about collecting data for law enforcement, so they could find the kidnappers, if at all possible. That wasn't really going to be needed this time, he didn't think. Not unless Wallace and Walker were trying to make a bit of cash on the side, suddenly.

Having decided on that only after having talked to him, of course. Except that, at the moment, both men were still inside his field. About twelve feet away. Meaning that they could choose not to speak, but probably couldn't make themselves truly lie at the moment.

Which could have been why they weren't talking at all. Not even to each other. Connor understood the need for operational silence in the woods, but it was a bit oppressive, riding in the far back of the truck, like he was. Isolating. Nearly as much as if he were simply locked in a tiny room for the same period of time.

Going over the events of the biological attack meant starting in the dining room, working to figure some things out. For instance, even though he'd known at the time that both of the women with him, Bertie and Parker, couldn't really lie to him, he'd missed that it meant Parker hadn't strictly speaking been playing or flirting with him when she tried to use pheromones to strip his will away from him. So they could get married and she could worm her way into billions of dollars. Possibly something else.

Then, later, after the attack, Doc had suggested that she was his great-great-grandmother. While standing inside of his field of effect. At a distance though, being about twenty feet away, which could mean that she’d been able to lie to him at that range. That some people could do that kind of thing was probably about right.

Except, while playful, she'd only said it after he'd mentioned the Order. As if she were trying to distract him from that train of thought, instead of merely being a pill. It hadn't seemed that way at the time, to him, because it made sense for her to deflect away from sex with him. Regardless of what she'd said, odds were that a seventeen-year-old boy, one who she'd never be able to remember doing anything with, wasn't all that high on her list of people to entertain.

He didn't doubt that she'd do it. It had come up too many times that she’d put out, while standing close to him. The sudden divergence into a claim that got his full attention like that had been a powerful way to get his mind off the topic he'd just been considering.

Besides, if it was gross of him to hit on his great-great-grandmother, it was probably even worse for her to not mention that kind of thing, if it was the truth. Especially if she'd known when she'd agreed to have sex with him the first time.

It also could have put a small crimp in any relationship they might have in the future. True, him not dating her wasn't going to make him act hurt or like she was evil, suddenly. There was a chance though that Connor might have taken offense at the supposed joke, or simply have decided that she didn't like him and refuse to be around her. He'd seen that kind of thing at school. More than once, now that he thought about the idea for a moment. It was a thing that he hadn't done, but some of his friends had, if their feelings were hurt. Going from liking someone to hating them wasn’t just possible, it was common, at least as far as he’d seen.

So, given everything and the tense situation at the time, it had probably been meant to do that distracting he'd been thinking of. Away from the Order, whatever that was.

Not that he didn't have some clues. It was, he thought, the group of people that had been at his house. Working and living in the giant space. That wasn't totally normal, to the best of his knowledge. He'd had nannies when younger and house staff were a thing. That could be a lot of people for a place as big as the new castle like structure his father had purchased.

Maybe twenty. Not a hundred and fifty or more.

Also, while he was thinking about it, a very wealthy man might have security, and even a doctor on staff. What wasn't going to happen would be having his own mad scientist and a stone building that was designed to fight off biological attacks. They probably wouldn't have vast evacuation plans, either. Not past run outside and avoid heavy weapons fire. Oh, there would be plans for his father and possibly him or key personnel. That might be ten people, out of the hundred plus that had been there the day before.

So, the people there, possibly up to and including the kitchen staff and security, would be at least part of this Order. If not the whole thing. No one had ever claimed that their secret society had to be large to be worthwhile.

It was, he had to guess, a real secret though. Otherwise he would have been told about it, first thing. Even if only so he'd know which rooms not to go into, in case they had a human sacrifice or an orgy going on.

Shaking his head a bit, he could only hope that, whatever the Order was, they weren't into that sort of thing. Human sacrifice. Connor had nothing against orgies, even if that seemed like it might well be a disease vector, if one weren't careful. Also like the type of thing he might not be invited to. Not past the first time.

The two men up front eventually started to speak. To each other. Almost as if they'd forgotten he was there, in the back. For a moment he wondered if it had to do with the field he was putting out. Neither was a zombie at the moment, from what he could tell, so it probably wasn't that.

Wallace, the driver of the moment made a muffled sound, like a laugh that had been half choked back.

"Who do you think is good for this? High technology, but using a biological mechanism. Jason, maybe. Possibly one of the splinter transhuman cults?"

The other man was the security boss, so might have more information about the whole thing. Connor eavesdropped shamelessly.

Just in case he said anything useful. The man simply answered, after a few moments.

"Both are good guesses. It feels wrong though. Off. Really, if you want my best guess... I think it was an inside job. One of us did it. Why, I don't know. Probably to get us out of the building. If so, that part worked. Right until the kill-bots get to them, if they try to enter the building."

That they had robots that did that kind of work for them, killing, Connor hadn't heard before. For that matter, he reflected on the idea that he also hadn't heard that he was part of them, at all. Which would probably mean that he’d made the short list of possible suspects that might have pulled the thing off. A thing that was a bit ridiculous, but also nice. After all, it was good to be included.

Rather than deny it, since that always just made people look guilty, he held his tongue. After all, he could, if there was a mole or plant who had betrayed them, possibly find out who they were.

Just by meeting enough people and casually asking about it. That kind of thing seemed to be his strong suit, so far in life.

As long as he wasn't taken out and shot for being the person who'd tried to kill them all. That might help him out, sure. It wouldn’t stop the guilty party though, leaving them open to more attacks later.

Chapter five

For some reason Connor had figured that the Charlie location would be an underground tunnel complex. One with heavy blast doors made of five-inch-thick steel, perhaps. That it could have been built into the side of a mountain came to mind, as far as having something secure enough to protect him from biological or nuclear attacks.

When he got out of the truck, only the fourth time since they'd started to drive two days before, he wasn't just stiff, but baffled by what he was seeing. It was, from the look of it, a small gravel coated, packed dirt street, running behind four houses. Things that were close to each other. Behind him, there were the backs of three other homes. An alley, he supposed, having never actually seen one of those in person. There was a glimpse of paved roads off to either side at least.

It was just turning to night as Walker waved him to move forward, closing the door of the white truck, then slapping the side of it gently, twice. That had Wallace starting the thing again, and moving off. Leaving Connor and the head guard standing behind a rather poor looking building. A garage, that seemed to need a coat of paint.

What it had was chipping and coming off in places, which wasn't a thing that he was familiar with at all. As in, he couldn't recall having seen that kind of neglect at all in life. He'd read of it, in some works that had been given to him in school. That was all though. Mainly due to living in a world that only very wealthy people and their servants inhabited.

His body felt stiff and even past that state. Swollen in the extremities, from lack of movement over the last two days. His neck had been left stiff from sleeping while sitting in the chair, though it didn't really hurt, thankfully. There had been enough room for them to stretch out, one person at a time, of course. Really, two men could have cuddled up and slept as well. That wasn't something that worked well in this case, since if Connor Harriman was the idiot doing it, he'd zombie out the man nearest him and the driver would be far too close not to be affected by his field. Possibly in a way that would harm his ability to drive safely.

So, he'd slept sitting up, dozing on and off, feeling both tense and bored, for two days straight.

No one had talked to him particularly the whole time, either. Enough to make certain he had enough food and water. They didn't bother to ask if he was comfortable, of course. A thing he understood fully.

After all, it had to be clear that nothing they did would actually allow them to travel quickly enough, if they wanted to see to that. Stopping for a day or so, so he could stretch and go for a run and have a pleasant night in a real bed would have slowed them down. Also allowing them to be seen and noted by their enemies, at least possibly. Moving the whole time was a risk as well, if they were being tracked. It was less likely to happen if their faces weren't seen constantly. Especially his, since, in theory, someone might recognize him. At least a computer system might. No one knew who he was in the press or anything, other than as an abstract concept that his father had a child.

Meaning he wasn't feeling all that wonderful when Walker waved for him to float forward. The large man moving smoothly, even if he'd been in the same rough conditions as Connor the whole time. Not wanting to seem out of place, or weak, he flowed forward himself, feeling clumsy. Without looking it, since that would possibly betray weakness.

Connor could feel the ghost of his old Etain harness under his shirt. The nylon straps and battery pack heavy on his shoulders and back. It wasn’t there, since the school had no physical hold on him any longer. Only the mental portion remained. It was enough.

Without speaking, the white garage door was pulled up. The ugly thing seemed old and like it would clank noisily. A key was needed to make it work. That and a bit of muscle, though it rose in near silence. Showing that it was well cared for inside. There was no light from the building itself. Just a black pit, showing under the half open wall as Walker ducked through. Not even waving for him to do the same. That part, he supposed, was simply expected. The kind of thing a normal person was supposed to work out for themselves, given the context of the situation.

As soon as he ducked under the obstacle, hitting the left side of his head on the low thing, just hard enough to be painful, it was pulled down. Only then, with the space closed off, did a light come on. Showing that another man was standing there, dressed in rather normal looking clothing. A t-shirt, tan slacks and work boots. The kind of man, Connor presumed, who would actually live in the house they were trying to invade. The one out front, at any rate.

He got ready to fight, in case they were supposed to be taking it from him. A blitz attack was the best bet, for that. Almost no one was truly ready to fight off an all out application of force. Even good fighters would go down if that happened without warning, about eighty percent of the time. Before he could push his body across the space to stun the man with a barrage of fists, Walker spoke, his voice firm, but not loud at all.

"Kelley. This is Connor Harriman. Connor, this is Ephraim Kelley. Just to enlighten you, Ephraim, Connor works with our organization. A V.I.P."

The man at the far door, who had rather stunning blue eyes and a thin face that seemed almost haunted and gaunt, didn't smile or even nod at them in return. Instead he waved to his left, where there was a small wood working shop set up.

Hopefully they weren't going to have to prove themselves by showing how well they could make a box or chair. Connor was going to fail if that was the case. Etain didn’t even have that kind of thing for the students to use at all. Some things were considered unimportant for their type of person. He’d learned a lot about psychology and a little about the mythologies of religion. Wood working hadn’t been mentioned, much less taught.

A slightly raspy voice spoke at them. Seeming almost disinterested in what it was saying.

"Under the band saw. Come and go only at night if you’re using this entrance. There are some shops in the area. Regular stuff. Groceries and clothing. No clubs or whore houses, so don't bother looking for them. If you need anything we don't have here, then suck it the fuck up." The words got a small grin to form then. Along with a direct look at Connor. "I know how it is. In the movies the spoiled rich kid is coddled and pampered, goes to the safe house to save his fucking life and then gets bored, so has to sneak out and then be rescued from being an idiot. If you do that, I'll shoot you in the knee. Your dad may need you to breed later, but that doesn't mean you can't do it with a limp. Understood?" The words were a little mean sounding.

As if the rough bearded man simply didn't think that much about Connor, already. Part of him actually wanted to put that aside as being more or less fair. It wasn't, of course. The asshole didn’t have any reason to think he was a stereotype at all, so far. Rather than argue the point, that he wasn't that careless or stupid, or that he hadn't been trained almost his whole life to hide when the need arose and how to do that very well, Connor simply tried to hold his face still.

It was tempting to simply walk across the room and beat the man to death. There were enough tools in the place for that, after all. Connor couldn’t hammer a nail, but using that kind of thing on the other man’s head was well within his skill set. Heat rose through him, not showing on his face. Anger wasn't foreign to him, not given the abuse that he’d put up with most of his life. Nor was being mildly abused by jerks that thought they were in control of the situation that was being shared at the moment. Most of his life had been filled with people like that. Rather than allowing himself to scream or rage at the jerk, Connor merely turned to Walker, since the other man probably knew which tool or area was a band saw.

Funnily enough he didn't seem to either, which had the bearded jerk, Mr. Kelley, moving across the room, rolling his eyes. When he moved into the dim space, he tapped the very top of a rounded metal device that had a heavy stand. It had to be pushed to the side using muscular effort, which happened with a scrapping noise. It was rough, as if there was dust and sand on the floor.

"Get down there. Like I said. Move outside only at night. Try to be invisible if you do. I'm in the main house. My wife and step kid don’t know that anyone is down here, so try not to need me. If you do, fucking come to the front door. Otherwise Magda will probably shoot you."

He seemed to be more honest suddenly, having moved closer to Connor. No more pleasant, but his declaration that the wife in the house didn’t know that they were there, and that she was armed and willing to shoot strange invaders seemed real.

This time he nodded. Even if killing the man next to them was tempting, that didn't mean Connor needed to get into it with the fellow’s wife. Protecting her own home sounded like a good plan, after all. It was what you did, if you didn't have guards to do that kind of thing for you, so he couldn’t blame her for it. More to the point, he wouldn’t, just because her husband was an asshole.

"Got it. They won't know that we exist, if at all possible." That might not be possible, if they didn't get at least get a bucket to relieve themselves in. Though, they could always just pick a corner. It would reek in the hole they were hiding in, in that case.

He'd live, if it didn't go on too long.

Ephraim nodded then, still seeming bitter for some reason.

"See that you make that happen. I have one good thing in my life. Her. That and her daughter are it for me." He was about to go on, when a light came on behind him. From the back of the house.

A woman's voice called out. She sounded pleasant, if that counted for anything. The kind of nice that made people want to like a woman, even if they’d just met. At least Connor felt that way on hearing her, which was the first time in his life for something like that. Maybe twice, since Clarice, his Dad’s secretary was pretty nice as well.

"Honey? What are you doing out here?"

Walker started to move then, rapidly, to get down into the hole. Moving silently enough that Connor wondered if he was going to vanish and simply leave him standing there, stammering about why he was there, not having a clue at all. If that happened, he'd need to rush the woman.

She probably didn't need to be beaten to death, however. Just touched so she wouldn't know what was going on and wouldn’t recall him being there. Instead of that, Mr. Kelley just called back, over his shoulder. Smiling a bit.

"I think we have a possum in here again, honey. I was just trying to scare it out. You know how I hate those things. I’m waving my hands and yelling booga-booga so far. It doesn’t seem intimidated."

That got a laugh from the woman. It happened as Walker vanished into the dark hole. Walking down, as if there were stairs in it, instead of a blind drop or even a ladder. As Connor tried to do the same thing, lowering his right foot, hoping it would hit something, the other man made a noise.

Moving out to stop the wife, whatever her name was, from entering the garage.

"It's probably my imagination. You know how we’re plagued by imaginary possum threats in this neighborhood. Anyway, what's for dinner? It smells great."

The female voice, still seeming like nothing was wrong, spoke again. She honestly sounded like a nice person. One too good to be with Ephraim the asshat.

"Why, my darling, I'm making your very favorite food in the whole world. Pepperoni pizza. From scratch, since I know you like it that way. Jen is setting the table for us as we speak. She should be in for the night, so you should spend some quality time with her later, if you get a chance, Hon."

Under his feet were wooden steps. He could feel them, creaking slightly as he moved down into the dark. Halfway down he froze, as Walker spoke.

"I need to close this up. Duck." As soon as that happened, a soft grinding sound blocking the little light they had at all, the other man opened a door at the end of the hallway.

Meaning their new home wasn't a spider hole at all, but was actually a larger space. One with electricity and light. It was simply a larger hallway though, instead of a dug out living space which the other man led him into. As soon as the door was closed, the big guy turned and nodded.

"We have five levels here, under the house and garage. Ephraim and Magda Kelley live here, as the cover for it. With Magda’s daughter, Jennifer. The situation isn't perfect inside. We have limited internet and cable, so we can monitor the situation outside, get orders and all that. This level is five feet under the dirt in the backyard, with a foot of reinforced concrete under that. It should be sound proof, but try to whisper up here. Just in case." The man didn't seem to love the set up, if his vocal tone was correct.

Connor could deal with it, from the look of things. Even staying in the garage was better than being buried in a pile of pine branches and dead leaves. They could be seen up there, however. So this was better. At the end of the hallway, which was about twenty feet away, there was a second door. A plain white thing that seemed much better taken care of.

He had to stay back, so he wouldn't influence the man in front of him, in case a fight started on the other side of the door. That wasn't the point of being there, but you were either ready to take care of problems or you weren't.

There was another set of stairs, a longer one, past that, which led to a second, deeper level. A much larger seeming thing, that reminded Connor of one of the buildings at school. Only larger by about fifty times. It was, he understood, probably under most of the city block, as well as the streets to either side. Or, most likely, since he couldn’t see what was off in the distance, a space that was vast, compared to even that. All of it seemed to be in plain, rather boring, gray concrete, so far.

Still, no one greeted them, first thing. The giant space had some cars and trucks in it, in well-marked out parking spaces. No one living was standing there, however.

Walker waved around them, his face blank.

"Charlie location. A complex with room for several thousand people at need. We mainly keep VIPs in here, if things are dangerous, but not that heavy at the moment. You'll be on the third level, with your father and his people. The staff is a little light, so don't be surprised if you have to heat your own Hotpockets and open cans of ravioli to keep yourself fed. Then, you might not have an issue there. At least I didn’t just spend the last two days listening to you whine about eating out of packages. That was nice, by the way. We didn’t get a big choice, so it made things easier. Even if the operational silence was hard. We couldn’t afford to let you in on everything, yet, so it had to be done. Come on, let's make this happen. We need to check in."

That required following again, and moving down a stairway that was on the other side of the floor they were on. It was a real walk, the set up of the building they were in mainly being open concept, with heavy pillars every twenty feet or so. There were, oddly enough, hundreds of vehicles in the space, even if there was no way they'd been driven down there, via the tiny hole under the bandsaw stand. No way that Connor knew of, at any rate.

Walker saw him looking at the things and shrugged, glancing back at him, from about fifteen feet away.

"We have several entrances. The problem is that it's harder to hide a car than it is a person going into a small hole. That means we have to be a lot more careful when doing that than even coming through here. Besides, I specifically wanted you to make contact with Kelley. It could be important, later." There was no explanation of that, the man clearly locking his lips closed.

Connor cheated a bit then, moving forward a little faster, closing to about ten feet before speaking. Increasing the pressure on him to tell the truth and explain. Not enough to force him into anything, but enough to make it happen, if the man wasn’t truly willing to fight against the force of it.

"Is he suspected of something? You want me to get close to him, so you can..."

There was a deep inhalation and then a sudden nod.

"Right. I don't have anything concrete at this point. He's shown a bit more money than he should have, over the last year. Not a lot though. It could be something innocent like Magda having a job that she doesn't report on her taxes or him having hocked some stolen jewelry. That... It could also be that he's turned on us. Government informant probably, in that case. The other factions all pay better than he's been showing. It really could be nothing."

Connor nodded.

"We'll have to come up with some reason to talk to him then, away from his wife and kid. Is he always like that? I mean, he was kind of..." Connor didn't really have a polite way to put it. Part of him still wanted to hunt the man down and beat him until he died, but being impolite about it wasn't allowed.

"A dickhead? Yeah, that's pretty much him. Except with Magda. She's actually a good person. Sweet. Easy on the eyes too. Not part of all this." He gestured, moving toward a rather plain brown door that didn't look like it would hold more than janitorial supplies behind it.

It was yet another set of stairs. This time the stairway was bigger and nicer. There was paper on the walls, for instance, all in a deep brown, with red carpet on the stairs themselves. Everything was decently clean, too.

Connor observed the whole place, without letting himself seem impressed. Walker wasn't. Even if a giant complex being hidden under a residential area was kind of amazing. When they exited this time, there were hallways, with rooms lining the sides. Things with numbers on the doors in gold colored metal. They just walked, doing it for a long time, not seeing anyone at all. Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes at a rather quick march, they ended up in front of a desk. A wooden one, with a man in a suit standing behind it. He smiled, moving to the counter. The fellow was older, probably near seventy, if he looked his age.

"Gentlemen, may I be of service?" The words gave nothing away. Which made sense, given that they were both unshaved and wearing the same clothing that had been put on two days before. Seedy, came to mind as a description. They might have been two guys from the city there who had simply stumbled down the wrong rabbit hole. If that had happened, then they’d probably have to be killed, or at least drugged into not being able to recall the trip to see the bunnies, later.

Connor stood back, a good way. About ten feet from Walker. A flanking position, setting things up for an attack, if you didn't know otherwise.

That meant the counter man was also within range of his field. Not to a level that he was compelled to speak. Just at the range where lying would be harder to do. Most of the time. Bertie had managed it, at least once. Standing there, for some reason he couldn't put together, he started to worry about the increase in his field during the evacuation.

It hadn't happened while the real attack was going on, or on the truck voyage to their current location. Just as he was supposed to leave the building. After being nearly knocked out due to lack of air. It didn't make sense, really. He should have hit the Doc when they were first locked in, not later, when nothing was really going on.

For the life of him, he hadn't felt more upset or anything at that point. Not until everyone started to freeze in place, acting like zombies even if they were fifty feet or more from him.

That had been scary. Really, it was close to his worst fear now. Living in a world where everyone else was rendered useless and immobile every time he moved anywhere near them. With no memory of him ever having been there at all.

Walker nodded at the man behind the counter, his face steely. The guard was good at that kind of thing. Looking hard, without actually scowling.

"This is Connor Harriman. I'm Doug Walker. We should be expected." The words were polite enough, though guarded. As if he wasn't truly certain that they'd made the magical list the man held behind the desk.

Old or not, the fellow looked the names up on a new seeming computer. At least the tapping movements below the edge of the desk were correct for that. From the sound he had a real keyboard, instead of a holographic display of some sort.

"Indeed, sir. Both of you are right here in the system. Let me run the key cards up for both of you, it won't take a minute!" That was a turn of phrase, it seemed, since the man didn't return for nearly five minutes.

Which technically made it correct, Connor had to agree. It really hadn't taken a minute.

A blue and black card was handed to Walker, who waved at the other one. Facing the other man.

"Set that down on the far end of the counter, then move away from it, please. Don’t close with the boy inside of fifteen feet if you have a choice. He’ll try to maintain that kind of distance pretty well, but you don’t want to break that by too much. If you do, try not to speak to him." The old man didn’t take offense at the idea, simply doing what he was told, not even seeming amused when Connor moved down to get the thing. Waiting for him to move away, first.

He felt obligated to explain his condition, but Walker just waved at the card in his hand.

"You have room fifteen? I'm over in twenty-three. This way, I think. We have low number rooms, which means not too far from here."

Connor waved at the counter man, since being polite was never wrong. Especially after making strange demands on him like they had. The old man smiled and bowed back, just a little bit. Then Connor had to march pretty quickly, to keep up with Walker, who was heading away at a fast pace. The man called back as he moved.

"These aren't bad rooms. At least as far as the walk goes, from here. There are exercise facilities on this floor and the rooms have televisions. If you want a computer that hooks to the web you'll have to go to the secured room for it. The one in your room will only be on the in-house system. This second hallway is yours. Room fifteen. You know how to get in?" He waved his card, to explain that the two things might be related.

Connor nodded, since his room at Etain had been sealed that way. Using a scan card.

"I think so. I just swipe the card?" He mimicked the motion.

The man shook his head.

"These are RFID chips. Primitive tech, really. Just tap the thing on the door, anywhere and it will unlock. There should be some kind of clothing inside for you. Possibly other things. A computer sets that up, so it will be different for each person. Based on what it thinks you really need to be happy. It isn’t perfect, but frankly, the places that have humans doing it are no better."

He nodded, and waved again. After all, he'd just spent two full days with the man. It hadn't been a bonding situation, particularly, but it had been time. They'd gotten to their destination, it seemed. Letting himself get whiny over being alone suddenly wasn't going to play, so he smiled a bit.

"Sounds good. I'll see you." He didn't give a time for that, not knowing when it might happen, if it ever did at all.

The man grinned.

"Seven, tomorrow morning. Level two, by the door we came in at. We're going running, so dress for that."

That sounded like a plan at least. Connor really needed to do something physical soon, or his limbs were going to fall off. The walking had helped, once they were out of the garage.

"I'll be there." Even if he couldn't find the right clothing for it.

The red carpeted hallway looked suspiciously like the one that they'd come in through, with the first room being number ten. Fifteen was only about a fifth of the way down and there was a good amount of space between the portals. He could see the end of the hallway, but had to admit that the place was probably a good bit larger than he’d figured it would be, at first. A separate city under the one above, somehow.

Holding his blue and black card up, which had a big number fifteen on the back, so he wouldn't get confused later, he followed the instructions and simply tapped the thing on the door. It caused a deep and resonating click to happen. After that Connor could turn the rather normal looking silver handle. It was cool to the touch, even if the air was comfortable enough.

Inside there was a decently long entry way, which lead to not one, but several rooms. Large spaces that had to be at least sixty feet across for the main one.

To his right was a kitchen area, that seemed to have all the normal things he'd been told such spaces held. Appliances and so forth. Things that he’d never seen before, except in the rare movie or television program. It looked clean and larger than he would have figured was needed for one person. To the left was a bedroom, that had a very large bed in it. One bigger than he'd ever slept in, to be honest. A king-sized bed, he thought. Off of that was a bathroom.

The largest space was the sitting room. A living space with several sofas, large chairs and a flat screen television which took up a nicely large area along the wall to the left.

Connor hadn't really watched much television before. Etain had allowed it on occasion as part of their training. Mainly so that the boys would know what that kind of thing was. He’d also been taught, rather firmly that the devices were mainly used as a subtle form of mind control. There was, given that, little to no use in spending time with the things, given that factor.

His screen time had mainly been about computers. Ones that had very limited data streams on them compared to the web, or so the rumors at school had told him. The school computers had linked to some very nice libraries, as well as research documentation. They hadn't had any real porn at all, and most of his classmates had mentioned missing things like television programs or social media when they were at school. Both of those were things that he didn't really have experience with at all.

In the bedroom was a closet. Inside of that, interestingly enough, was clothing. Most of it didn't look at all like he was used to. It was mainly simple seeming tan slacks, and plain, light blue, button up shirts. At the bottom was a shoe rack with both soft looking brown loafers and running shoes. There were, off to the side, also some sweats, for exercising in. Several sets of those, which was probably about right. He was used to using them once, then putting them in to be washed.

There was also a dresser that held some t-shirts, underwear and socks for him to wear. Grabbing a set of those, he went to the bathroom, used one of the razors there to shave the nearly four days of growth off his face, a new toothbrush to handle his teeth and then showered the stink of several days off of himself. That took some real scrubbing to make happen.

After he dressed, Connor wandered out into the main space and contemplated finding some food. There was a kitchen there and he'd been warned that there wouldn't be servants, in particular. When he checked there was a fridge filled with food, canned and frozen goods as well as some fresh fruits in a large bowl on the counter. The cupboards had cans and boxes as well. The fruit was real, so he started with that. Most of the rest of the food required some kind of preparation. That was, he feared, going to require a new skill set.

He could roast meat, over a fire. Opening cans and jars was a trick that he’d been shown in survival training, if not often. That gave him a starting point, but he was, sadly, lacking anything like a fire pit in his room. There was a stove and he wasn't a total idiot, so he had a heat source, potentially. On the back of the boxes and containers of food there were hints as to what to do. Such as boiling water or temperatures to set the oven at.

Not how to do those things, but it should be safe enough to play around with, if he were careful.

First though, he contented himself by eating several apples and a nice pear that had to be washed off his hands and face when he was done. There was a trash can with a lid for the leavings, which worked for him well enough.

Not being hungry at the moment, he didn’t have to try and make anything more to eat. Leaving him with a large open space around him and not much to do at all. There was a clock on the wall, which claimed that it was nine-seventeen in the evening. The red numbers glowed at him, stating the time rather definitively. It wasn’t refined, compared to the rest of the room. That was nice enough, compared to what he’d had at Etain. In the castle his room had been nicer, of course.

The place wasn’t a hole under a garage with a piss bucket in it, so he wasn’t going to whine on that score. It was, compared to that, a palace.

Before he could think about going to bed, or sitting in one of the soft chairs, a knock came at his door. That just had to be answered, since there was no way to see through the thing, that he could tell. No peephole or view screen was available for him to utilize for safety. Not that he'd ever heard of the last one being a thing. It simply made sense to him. You could put up a camera and then see who was about to come and attack you. If no one had invented that yet, it was an idea to work on.

So he opened the door, blind, getting ready to fight.

Standing back, nearly across the hall, was a familiar face. A rather nerdy one, with glasses on. Doc Short.

Connor grinned at her. Probably stupidly. It was real though, since she was, of the new people he'd met, probably his favorite. Walker was okay, but it was clear the man wasn't that interested in being more than his security guard and maybe exercise buddy. Doctor Nerd Girl was, as much as he had one outside of school, his friend. A thing that even he knew wasn’t real and probably meant he was being needy and silly about it all. The truth was that the woman had kind of mentioned being willing to have sex with him, even if it wouldn’t be exciting or memorable for her. That meant she was extra cool, in his book.

So he lit up and let himself seem like an idiot.

"Hey! I didn’t know you'd be here. I heard that my Father was, but that's all." That and his Father’s people, whoever those were. Obviously Doctor Short was in that grouping.

She waved him back, so they wouldn’t touch at the door.

"I notice that you aren't making everyone freeze at a huge distance anymore? That's good. I was worried you might be stuck that way. Not that you'd be here if you were still doing that. You seem normal? Any new symptoms?"

Connor blinked and moved back, the girl, who was in a black skirt, white blouse and a black vest over it, moved in, quickly, shutting the door behind her. Almost furtively, which made little to no sense.

Then she waved him all the way back into the room. Still, she was only about ten feet from him. So inside what he thought of as the honesty zone.

Her face was cheerful, but she waited for him to answer her questions.

"Well, I doubt that I'm normal at all. As for my abilities... Those seem about the same. Why? I noticed that the effects from the other day came after I had that shot. Is that related, do you think?"

That got a head shake.

"Maybe, but probably not. My guess is that something triggered it in you. Stress is the most likely cause, but it could be something else. Even the hypoxia you suffered in the cleaning process could be what did it. We'd just been talking about me being your great-great-grandmother, as well, which isn't true, of course. We aren't related like that. Still, that could have been it. That or just the excitement of leaving. Still, you aren't doing it now, so it’s probably related to the idea of just seeing a new place. I need to run some tests." She shrugged then, and wrinkled her nose at him, cutely.

Then took her black velvet vest off, rather matter of factly.

"Here, I'll strip and you can do me from behind. I can't get pregnant, so that's no worry." She shook her head. "I'd claim I was lying now, to stress you, but it isn't true. I’m probably the one woman you’ll ever meet that you don’t need to wrap up the goodies first, before having fun. No diseases, thanks to the shot we both had, and no babies, even if I wanted to catch you as a husband. So, get your clothing off." She kept removing items of clothing, as he stood back, wondering what was really going on. After a moment, he thought he had it.

"Wait, so... you want to see if sex triggers a response in me? An increase in field strength? Only, you can't lie right now." He was certain of that.

She shrugged.

"Exactly. So, you'll have to remind me later if that happened. So far so good. Here, check out my goodies. Does that get you going?"

She stripped naked, and stood there in front of him. Seeming unashamed of her nudity. She either shaved her whole body or didn't grow hair in particular. That meant everything on her thin, rather pale form showed. Then, almost playfully, she turned around, knelt on the floor, then got on all fours.

Over her shoulder, her long hair pulled to the left side, she nodded at him.

"Go ahead. No anal this time? I'm not used to it anymore, so that will probably hurt, even if I don't remember it happening. I sit too much during my work day for that to be comfortable later."

Connor felt slightly torn. For about ten seconds, then he took his own clothing off and moved toward her. After all, the woman was offering and he really was interested in trying things out with a woman. That made it all right, he thought. She kept speaking, though very softly, until he touched her, his hand on her behind, gently. Then, like everyone did, she stopped moving and zombied out.

Part of him wanted something more alive than that and felt a bit guilty, abusing her when she couldn't consent properly. The rest of him really wanted the release and frankly, she was much cuter with her clothing off than she had been before while clothed. Plus, she really had basically ordered him to do it, which was, he had to consider, sweet of her. The only rule seemed to be not doing her up the behind. That time. That was fine with him, of course. Not that he didn’t want to use all of her. It was all new though for him, so going in normally first was fine enough.

He explored her body, doing a good job of it, since it was unique to him, feeling her small breast, then running a finger up inside of her.

She was moist there, already. Slick with some form of lubricant. Probably not a natural one, given that they hadn't done anything to cause that to happen. Even he knew that women needed foreplay to start things going for them. It had been in his school lessons, more than once. A thing which he couldn't really do at all. Rather, he could go through the motions, but had to think that women weren’t going to respond to him properly that way, no matter how much he pet or cuddled them first.

Still, he did stroke her body for a while, going through what he thought were the correct motions for her. Trying to make things interesting and pleasant for her, even if it didn't matter in the end. Then, slowly, he entered her from behind. It was a bit awkward, and felt like he was simply using her. Which he was.

"Um, push back a bit." That got some action at least, and she grunted as she did it.

Apparently, that part was honest enough. It was also exciting, since she was responding more than he would have thought possible.

"Does this hurt or anything?"

Her voice was soft, but she did speak.

"It feels good. Nice."

They kept at it for a while. Not too long, since it felt incredible for him. He finished inside of her, then felt bad about that. Right until he moved back, and she recovered after fifteen seconds or so, turning around to look at him again.

"Are you ready?" Her face was innocent enough that he shook his head.

"We're done already. You told me that I was the best you ever had, just so you know." That wasn't true. She'd kept saying it was good though. Nice. That could have been worse, he decided.

She seemed to agree, going in to the bathroom, to dress and probably wash up, since he'd left something of a mess inside of her. As she did, she called back to him.

"We have some things to talk about. I'll be out in a few minutes. Don't run off on me yet."

Then she vanished into the other room, leaving him there. Naked still.

Chapter six

It took ten long, dread filled minutes for Doctor Short to come back out of the bathroom. The shower had run, though her dark brown hair wasn't damp. The long locks were perfectly straight and seemed clean and tidy, if not decorative.

Connor had taken the time to dress, and get a drink of water. There was a filtered system on the refrigerator, which didn't taste bad or as if it had anything chemical in it. That would make it an excellent portal to poison people, given he had to either drink that, or what came from the tap. Just slipping something into both of those would be enough to get rid of him. Everyone else that was currently in the underground bunker as well.

In general, you couldn't functionally poison a water supply, for say a large town or city. The dilution rates were so high and water flows so uneven that it simply wouldn't work. The same problem existed for chemical weapons in the air. Which meant that slipping a self-replicating bio-agent or nano particulate system in would work best.

Hopefully there was an alarm for things like that somewhere in the complex. Which meant he only had to worry about his Father and the people with him deciding to do that kind of thing to him, specifically, not outsiders. Which was patently ridiculous to even consider, he knew. Given his location, they could simply shoot him. No one would report it to the police, at a guess. It was what he would have done, if he had a troublesome person with no real-world use to get rid of.

Hopefully being young and well enough educated would give him a leg up that way, as far as seeming useful enough to bother keeping around. Even if working with him was going to be a big enough hassle that he honestly could see just dumping him on a road side or even killing him to get rid of.

The doctor didn't hold back much, moving close to him even if she was smart enough not to move all the way in to try and touch him. That wasn't happening. Not in a way she could remember at least. It would, in the end, keep him from having a real relationship with anyone, he had to figure. Even if he was feeling pretty warmly toward Bertie at the moment. If her goal had been winning him over, she’d managed to do a lot toward that end, already.

She wouldn't be feeling the same way, it was clear. There was no reason for her to. Honestly, there never would be, on a physical level.

As soon as she sat on the sofa, the woman, seeming more than young enough for him to go around with publically without raising any eyebrows, gave him a serious look.

"We need to get you up to speed on things around here, before you make a mistake. First, you're going to be offered entry into the Order. Your father confirmed that for me and frankly, we’d pretty much have to do that, given your abilities. Worse, we'll have to have complete faith and trust in you, and can't actually test you that way. Well, we can, by putting you in a very advanced lie detector. We'll do that as well. Normally you'd be given opportunities to betray us, our own agents doing the offering. If you failed and did it, you'd die automatically. That isn’t going to work with you, since anyone trying would just tell you about it first." She seemed serious and was sitting no more than seven feet from him. His mind wanted to turn back to sex, but he managed not to be that distracted.

Even if he had just been with a woman for the first time.

"Okay. So, I really don't get a choice here? I'd rather not have to rape and eat the corpse of a baby or anything, if that can be avoided. I don’t even know any Presidents to share with me." Connor had heard of that kind of thing from some of his friends at school. It always seemed disgusting. That part also meant that it wasn’t just a Leland thing, of course.

Connor wondered if the man was still alive or not. His guess was no, though anything as possible. The man was a monster, but it was clear that a lot of the kids at school had done similar things and really weren’t.

Then, the idea was that if they hadn't done it when told, they or their family would have been put to death. With no choice and often drugged to the gills, they'd done what they were told. Not all of them and not all the time, but at least half a dozen of the boys had mentioned things like that happening on their breaks. All inside the last six months, too. Meaning it couldn't be that rare. There were only about two hundred students at Etain, after all.

The young looking doctor across from him nodded.

"I hear that one. I can try to put a word in that way, to see if we can forestall that. The trick is that we all have to show complete obedience to the rules of the Order. If we can show that you aren't lying... That would probably work well enough. The problem there is that I don't run those tests and probably can't rig it for you. Not if it's done here, inside the next few days. If we get a few weeks, we could manage that. Which... It means you need to agree and believe what you're told about us. You can do that, can't you?" She said it like Connor might just have a problem with their aims and goals. Whatever those were.

So he nodded.

"Possibly. Am I allowed to know what my new goals and all that are first, or do I have to guess? That would make it harder, I think."

Glasses glinting in the overhead light, his new friend gave a single nod.

"Your Father gets to inform you of that. Again, you need to simply accept. You can ask questions, to make sure you understand, but doubting... He will have you put to death, if he can't do it himself. At least if you aren’t all in with us. That's normally how it's done, actually. Parents have to kill their own children if they fail to join when the time comes. It's a bit early for you, having been away at school like you were. Indoctrination is normally done over a few years, not weeks."

She shook her head and leaned back, sneering a lot more than he'd ever seen her do before.

"Not that you weren't screwed up enough for us to work with. I looked at the records that were kept on you there... At Etain. That place designed everything around you in a way that broke your mind. They forced you to simulate killing in realistic conditions, over and over again, from a young age. You were conditioned to follow orders. For that matter, you were conditioned to be gay. Bi-sexual, at the very least. It's why they punished you for masturbation in an all boys school. Then didn't punish people for doing things with each other. Well, some of them. Not you, though. Only the naturally gay ones were punished for that. Most of them will probably off themselves inside the next few years. That you haven’t yet is interesting. You’re clearly depressed enough."

Connor, feeling a bit miserable about his life, tried to smile and not show it in his voice.

"I suppose that will mean that I can pick my rape victims from an unlimited pool, then? My powers... Well, you know, better than anyone else in the world, don't you? It's got to be hard to be emotionally close to anyone if you can't touch them."

That got a gentle wave. A dismissal, really.

"That really is a point. On the good side, you won't be emotionally scarring people when you do it, if you don't explain yourself first. Just make sure not to get anyone pregnant or harm them so much they go to the hospital over it. Other than that, well, there have been studies. If a person can't recall a trauma, they don't suffer from it. Really, you should just fuck whoever you want and not worry about it. If it’s a problem for you, ask if they want to first. That’s the best you can do, so it has to be enough. Morality doesn’t work if it’s impossible, after all."

The words weren't all that promising sounding to Connor. He might not have been great looking, but no one had ever encouraged him to simply use others against their will like that, before. Stab them, shoot them... Even beat or strangle people of all types, certainly. Daily, even. Rape hadn’t been part of his course of studies, for some reason.

Probably because his father, if not a loving man, thought of him as an asset that didn't need to be that broken. Then his powers developed, practically forcing him to be a rapist if he wanted to have sex at all. His mind already shaped in a way that meant he couldn’t really do without, long term. It was a mess. At least if he let himself worry over it.

So he nodded his agreement, not wanting to die just yet. Oddly enough, the idea didn't scare him that much, either. Doc Short hadn’t been wrong about how he was feeling. That part of him was constant, or had been for the last months. Since his abilities had developed. The truth was good, but dismal at times.

"All right. Well, I guess I can throw in with you, for now. If I can't, once I find out what the secret plans and goals are, I can just kill myself and save everyone else the trouble." That made as much sense as anything.

Doc gave him a tiny smile then. It didn't look pleased.

"You really just believe what I'm telling you... Because I can't lie. That actually makes this a lot easier. Most of the time the first indoctrination set is done over the course of two weeks, in a secluded location, to prevent running away. We have some islands used for that. On the good side we can't really have you raped into submission. Or on the bad side. It depends how you take the message, which I'm not supposed to tell you." She stopped talking then, got up and moved away, toward the door to the room. To make it easier not to speak. "Be ready to meet with your father in about an hour. It's late. No one will care about that, so don't bother complaining about being sleepy." Then, as if she hadn't dropped the biggest bomb on his life he'd heard of in the last three months, she walked out.

Connor didn't wait even ten seconds before getting a new outfit from the closet, choosing tan slacks, loafers and a light blue button up shirt. It was the nicest outfit available, after all. Then he showered, so he wouldn't go to the meeting smelling like sex. It wasn't powerful to him, but Connor had always kind of wondered if his sense of smell was as good as everyone else's. Everyone else had always seemed to pick things up before he did that way. Meaning he took extra pains to smell as nicely as possible all the time.

Not offending others with poor hygiene was important.

It meant that he was dressed and fresh when the phone rang. It took him a moment to find the thing, even if it was just setting on a table, along the far wall. Opposite from the television. It was red, had a line that went into the wall and springy cord that kept the hand unit attached to the base. When he picked it up and looked for a way to turn it on, he could hear a voice. One that was speaking his name.

"Connor? Hello? Are you there?" It sounded sort of familiar. Like his father.

Tucking the speaking portion to his face, Connor cleared his throat.

"Sorry there, I had to figure out how to use this thing. It’s different than a cell phone. This is Connor Harriman; how may I help you?" Sure, it sounded like his Dad. The truth was he didn't know the man well enough to be casual with him. Not anymore. Really, he couldn’t recall a time when that had ever been the case.

"This is your Father. I'm in room twenty-seven. Would you be available to meet me in a few minutes? Or in the morning, if that doesn't work for you. I know that you may want a good night's rest, after the trip you just took."

He sort of did, but had been warned already not to be a whiner and taken it to heart. It wasn't a lie, after all. No one there was going to be allowed to care about his being a bit sleepy at the moment.

"I can come over now, if you wish. That... I know it will be in another hallway. I just don't know how the numbers work here yet."
There was a moment of muttering, muffled somehow. When the man spoke again, his words came quickly.

"Take a right at your door, go to the end of the hallway and then head one over to the left again. It's most of the way down from there. See you in... Call it fifteen minutes?"

"I'll try to be there directly. If I get lost... Well, send a search team? Otherwise I’ll probably starve before I find humanity again." He was trying to be funny, but wasn't totally certain it might not be needed.

"Understood." The phone was hung up, so he did the same, noticing the little button on the base that was depressed by the weight of the hand piece. That was efficient, since cutting the line happened instantly on hanging the thing up.

The trip to the other room didn't involve him wandering in a secret underground city all night at all, for some reason. Possibly good directions. It took five minutes, instead of fifteen, even though that was a guess. Connor didn’t own a watch or anything like that. Rather than keep the man waiting, he knocked sharply, attempting to get his attention. Or, more likely, that of a servant.

The door opened without anyone touching it. As if by some kind of automatic process. That or a ghost doing the work. From inside, he heard a strong voice.

"Enter! I'm set up in the front space."

Connor didn’t know what to expect from the room. Something grand or designed with business in mind, since his father was staying there. A thing that was disappointing, when he got all the way inside.

The only real difference to the room from what Connor had was that there was a billionaire in it, where as his room had only been him. At least when he'd last seen it. Otherwise they were nearly identical in footprint and layout. The art on the wall was different, being a seascape in his room and a picture of a farm house, in this one.

His Father, the older man, was still as lean as the last time Connor had seen him, some days before. His suit was a new one, but seemed to be just as nice as before. Tailored to his form, instead of being selected by a computer out of a store room of such things. Most likely a piece of clothing that had managed to travel with the man from his home, if not stored at the facility in case he needed to travel there.

The man smiled at him, pretending not to be nervous. That ended when Connor moved closer to him, waiting to be asked to take a seat. He was about fifteen feet away, when his Dad started speaking. There was no real hesitation to the words. No attempt to hedge either.

"The Sisyphean Order was established almost a thousand years ago. The goal was, and still is, to save the world. From itself, if that's needed. Which in the last hundred years it truly has been." He stopped, looking at Connor for a hint of doubt. Or, just as likely, waiting for a question to come.

Something like, Sisyphean who now? It was tempting to go for that one, though being funny wasn’t the best idea, when it came to others belief systems or life’s work.

Instead he simply nodded. Somberly.

"That sounds more promising than I thought it would, to tell the truth. Saving the world as a goal. I’d kind of figured it was all about taking over just to be in power." He'd moved about ten feet from the other man, but didn't take the nearest chair.

Stephen nodded at the words, but didn't smile.

"Except that we're dealing with climate change, overpopulation, a high risk of uncontrolled biological or chemical warfare being used indiscriminately by fools that care for nothing more than for lining their pockets with a few more bills that they'll never spend… Which is your point. I know how tempting that can be, having been one of them, early on in my life. Even after I joined the Order. We still have some of that sort in our ranks. We aren't by any means perfect as a group. Still, the hard work of killing most of the population has to be done and we're very close to being the best people for the job, right now."

Connor could have acted as if that were a big problem for him. The truth was, the idea of killing people he didn't know and who he'd never meet in the normal course of things didn't really do anything to him at all. Some of what had been said got him thinking though.

"I see... So, we need to use something like a controllable bio-agent? One that won't be as easy to deal with as what we were hit with the other day. Ebola-pox, wasn't it? At the same time, we're going to need a distraction. A wide spread war... Or, I don't know, global financial collapse? Maybe both at one time. The trick there will be keeping things under control so that a nuclear war doesn't start. Not if you want the ecology of the planet to survive." It all seemed like common sense to him. Possibly a little too cute and unknowledgeable about the topic at hand, really.

Rather than deride his ignorance, his father sat up in his chair.

"That is... Very close to the thoughts of about half the high council. The rest are hoping to use slow poisons introduced through plastics and cell phone usage. I'm honestly on the fence, myself. The method you suggest would be faster. The other way is easier to manage. There are risks to both, with the slower one being the lesser of the two evils. In the end we still need to kill most of humanity. Some will try to tell you that the goal is only ninety percent. That… probably isn't the truth. The inner circle speaks of five percent and my sources tell me that the highest in all the various societies are actually looking to kill us all. To remove humanity, from the world in order to protect the planet itself. The life on it, anyway."

He seemed a bit wry about that last portion of things. There was an explanation at least.

"Our order, if you choose to join it, is a bit less religious than some of the others. Moloch worship, versions of Luciferianism, The Latter Day Saints, of course as well as the Deep Catholics. They all have a hand in similar pies at the moment. We should, naturally, all work together. That tends not to work for very long. We might all have to die, but the truth is that everyone wants to be in control until they do. I know that I do, if I get a choice."

That made sense to Connor at least.

"Hmm. I'm in, then. On taking out most of the people. Possibly all of us, if that’s what’s really needed. Where do we start? I heard some good things about monkey pox, the other day. Doctor Short has some ready to go in her lab, even… Would it be possible to..." He stopped for a minute, trying to recall what he'd been taught in his civics classes. It was decently complete, though reading up on things would make sense, if they were going to try to destroy most of the people of the world as quickly as possible. "We could stage attacks by Islamic people on a major event? Or... you know, what if we did a series of smaller, but undeniable attacks. Hit Christian churches directly. Suicide bombers. Regular bombs. Drone strikes? Snipers... The trick is in framing the right people for it, of course. Building a real trail to them that anyone can find, after the attacks. We could feed Tim and Denise the information on that, which should help their careers. I mean, there’s no reason not to, since we’re blackmailing them anyway."

The truth was he didn’t know enough about that kind of thing to really make suggestions. Before he could admit to that, his father blinked, several times, then nodded. His face was serious seeming.

"Go on." There was a wave that went with it.

"Hmm. Well, if we could use that to start another gulf war, then hit... Either India or China, with a deadly plague or virus. Something that we spread with hundreds of initial vectors. Figure that half of them will be caught, so we need to spread things in poor sections of those countries. India, first. They have a massive population and poor sanitation practices, along with being neighbors with Pakistan, making the sub-continent the most densely populated area on the planet right now."

The kid waved, and shook his head. Still standing, which meant he felt slightly awkward. Like he was giving a speech in school.

"Not that I have the facts for this. Saying, send in a bunch of plague, is a lot different than actually doing it. Clearly, or it would already have been accomplished. Ten people and a few plane trips would get it done, or should."

The words got a nod.

"True. And we have tried, many, many times. Not just us, but most of the groups doing similar work. Everything from what you've just suggested, to killing key figures along the time stream, to opening portals to hell to accomplish the grand working." He stopped then and shrugged, chuckling a little at the end. "Oh, by the way... We have time travel, if of a limited sort and magic is real. Genetic super soldiers, mind control programs… Everything, really. I mean, humanity has all of those things. We, the Order, has control of a few of them. We don’t do much with magic, since it really isn’t all that powerful. It works and is real, if you have contact with the right entities, but on a large scale it isn’t all that impressive. Half, or more, of why everyone keeps failing is that there seems to be a rogue group out there fighting against us. We haven't been able to find them yet though. My guess is that they're using time travel to undo everything. It has that feel about it. Only, that alone isn’t enough. You still have to be able to get things done, even if you get multiple chances at it. Plus, time travel has some hard limits on it. It’s messy and not exacting at all."

Connor looked behind himself and then nodded.

"May I sit?" The chair was empty, but there may be a reason for him to be kept standing there, nervously. Not that he was feeling that any longer. The new information was nothing less than fascinating, now that he heard it.

Even if they all ended up dying, to save the planet. He had to figure that his life probably wouldn't be worth saving, no matter who won in the end. No one would want to live with a person like him around. Telling the truth without end or control. It made things simpler, for him. For instance, he knew that he only had two choices in what was being spoken of at the moment. He could die right then, or join and die later. Since the goal seemed good enough, saving the world, that choice was fairly easy to make.

There was a wave at a soft, leather covered, chair, which was about seven feet from where his father sat.

The older man squinted, which showed on his face rather starkly.

"Most people act shocked when they hear that they're supposed to help us kill most of the people in the world. We don't tell them that they'll probably be among the dead, either. I just told you both and you seem, more or less fine with that." No questions came, even though people under his influence could ask them.

As long as they were honest questions, to the person doing the asking.

He closed one eye, the left one, screwing his face up a bit on that side. Thinking.

"Doctor Short mentioned to me that failing to go along with the Order would end in my death. Also, she didn’t mention that the goal was that good. I mean, clearly evil, since a lot of people will die from the actions we take. If I do that, destroy that many lives, I can't expect to live. Either the people that survive will kill me, or those on our side will. The truth is useful, but so is lying in the right circumstances. I can't expect to take away others’ power and not suffer for it, in the end. Really, no one that murders most of humanity should be allowed to survive doing it. There has to be a cost to saving what we can that way."

It was a dismal thought, though after a few moments his Father simply nodded.

"Enlightened. On the good side, we'll both probably pass of old age first. Like I said, the Order was formed a thousand years ago. Slightly longer than that. Not that we aren't duty bound to try our best. You say Doctor Short warned you? She wasn’t supposed to do that." He seemed a bit put out by that news.

Which didn’t make sense at all.

"After we had sex. Or, you know, I had sex with her. She gave me permission first, so it wasn't rape. Just a bit like that, from every other angle. Then, after she showered, she came back into the room and got too close to me. It isn't as if she could have lied, so... Well, she managed not to tell me about the Order at all. Just that I join or not and that the last option wasn't allowed." He shrugged. It was close enough to the truth, though he kind of figured the woman had planned out her speech first, before even coming to see him.

After blinking a few times, his Father laughed. It sounded real enough.

"You do know she's a bit older than she looks, don't you?"

That had come up, so he nodded, smiling this time.

"About a hundred and fifty years isn’t it? That was a strange story. Immortality is a super power, after a fashion.” Glancing at the door, Connor shrugged. "Do you have anything like that going on? You mentioned that Mom had a power that was a bit like mine?"

There was a slow nod that kept going for about five seconds, before the words came out. As if he was fighting the answer.

"Low level telekinesis and precognition for myself. Enough that I was able to locate the next attack coming in after the first one blindsided me the other day. Then, big explosions are much easier to understand than a stressful mist in the air coming from a drone. I can move about twenty pounds, up to a hundred feet from my body. It's just a thing that I was born with. Now, Mindy, your mother... She was genetically engineered by her father, Doug Clark. Brilliant man. Also, totally insane and wrapped up in the Jason Society so tightly that he can’t pass gas without one of their alarms going off. They have the best technology out of all the factions. At least that we know about." The man looked away for a minute, as if thinking.

Words came out, after a while.

Which meant he'd been fighting what he was about to say.

"Mindy was sent into the Order as a spy. I've never been sure that our people weren't the ones that killed her. To be fair, I never bothered to ask. I was about to have her killed anyway, by the time she died. No more than half a year away from that. She, when they sent the team in to kill her, they almost lost. Ten armed, brainwashed super soldiers, against her. Dressed in a nightgown, with only a weapon that she'd taken from one of them to fight with. She could spread a field that put anyone within fifty feet of her to sleep. They didn't recall anything afterwards, either, much like those you affect at close range. Unlike you, she could touch people when she wasn't actively trying to use her powers." He sighed then and shook his head.

Then, after a few seconds, powered onward with his tale from the past.

At least he could have. The words weren't in that vein, exactly, Connor noticed. The older man seemed mildly annoyed suddenly, as well.

"You... So far it doesn't look like your abilities will work the same way. You're more powerful than she was, clearly, which is a bit of a curse for you, I fear. As you've noticed. It’s a powerful gift though. When we were attacked, you influenced everyone inside a quarter mile radius and reports had people up to a hundred feet away from you with memory loss surrounding the event. The guard team we had in couldn't even recall why they'd been sent, until the orders were reissued from off site. Which is, by the way, why I left without you. We simply couldn't work out how to protect you, until that was under control. We need to see if you can learn to use that on demand."

Connor was soaking in the words, finally shaking his head, which probably seemed a bit angry.

"You were telling me about Mom? I barely remember her. Was she nice?"

The words got an answer, since his Father didn't really have a choice.

"Oh, no. Not at all. The woman could barely fake being civil for more than ten minutes at a time. She was a spy, for the Jason Society. Her conditioning made it nearly impossible for her to love. If it wasn't for the nanny, you probably would have starved. On top of that, she enjoyed sleeping with pretty much anyone in the world that would hold still long enough for her to make an approach. She abused you, of course, sexually. Not so much physically, which was the only saving grace there. That was how she'd been raised, being raped constantly, so it might not have seemed to be as horrible to her as it would be to some. Do you have any memory of that?"

He didn't, of course. He recalled being a child and being bathed a lot. What happened during those times, that was gone from him.

"Not at all. I can’t even remember what she looked like."

That got a serious look from his father.

"Her power, no doubt. I tried to protect you from her, as well as I could. The truth was that I was never trained to be a father, really. My parents had others raise me, so when the time came and she died, I did the same for you. Etain... Well, you survived it. Not everyone does. I paid them well for the extra work and learning you had. Trying to help you be strong, without breaking your spirit. I don't know what I was thinking, only..."

His Father, a man he barely knew at all, misted up a bit.

"I wanted the world we have to live in to be easier for you than it was for me. Also, I wanted you out of the way. Children destroy lives. Never have any, if you can help it. There was no way I could do my job and be a full time or even part time, Father. So, I hid you away and did my best to make certain you'd have the skills you needed for this world. Fighting, the ability to kill without taking harm from it. A base of real information that most aren't privy to at a young age. Really, Headmaster Morris should have realized that he couldn't easily frame you like that. They’d trained you and the other boys there to be resourceful. If it had been another child there, I dare say the man would have probably died."

Connor took a turn looking away, since the raw emotion on the older man's face was hard for him to handle. He wasn't really trained for it. Even if no tears were falling, he was too close for that to be comfortable. Noticing that kind of thing could draw pain from the control harness. Etain men learned not to see such responses, whenever possible. If they had to, then mocking the other boy until they strengthened their resolve was the order of the day.

At the moment he doubted that calling his Father a sissy would toughen him up.

"I have to admit, killing him came to mind first. That didn't seem like enough, though, so I used my skills and abilities to try something unexpected."

There was a nod from the older man, as he straightened his red and gold tie at the same time. It was silk, and shone slightly in the overhead lights.

"That it was, son. No one saw it coming at all. Anyway, now that you know I'm one of the worst fathers possible, are you still in with the Order? I have to say, I like the spirit you put in to some of your plans so far. We probably can't pull them off. As I mentioned, someone we can't find seems to be behind stopping us, over and over again. Not just us, either, everyone trying to save the planet. All the groups and even the world’s governments. The best plans just… Fail."

Those words got Connor to think for a moment, before responding.

"Then we should deal with that first. It would mean meeting with a lot of people, but if I can get them to tell me about whoever is stopping us, if anyone has a clue..."

The words got the bald man across from him to grin then. It was a dark thing, rather than a sign of true joy or lightness in the world. Really, is seemed nearly sinister, if Connor was going to be truthful about it.

"Oh, that would be a very good thing, if you can find out anything, I'd have to imagine."

Chapter seven

Walker, the head guard, was dressed in black shorts and a t-shirt for their run. Connor was in a bit more, since the second level, even if underground, was a bit chilly for him. The older man was out front guiding them, even if the run was in a large circle, with only a few interesting turns around some of the large cement columns that held the giant room up. They didn't run at a blistering pace, though they kept it up for slightly over an hour.

When they finished, the other man waved at him to stop. They were both covered with a salty dampness. The kind of thing that meant you were either working very hard, or dying of a fever that was about to become far more unpleasant than simply running for a while would be. Thankfully, that day, it was all about heavy breathing and a bit of movement.

Which, when he thought about it, was a good thing, in Connor's book.

"Not bad. We'll add in some other exercises tomorrow. There's a gym on the third level, near the back. We’ll use that after the run. See you at seven, if not sooner." Then Walker marched away. It was efficient, if not exactly friendly seeming. Then, the man wasn't claiming to be his new pal.

It might even be part of his job to make certain Connor could take care of himself. They hadn't spoken of it. Or, really, anything else, for the length of the run. That had to be on purpose. Not that Connor was planning to force the man to give over his secrets. They all probably had them, there. In the Order.

What his Father had told him was both interesting and distressing. For odd reasons, too. The idea of killing off most of the people in the world, even if that might include himself, wasn't exactly a fun thing to learn about. Not that bad, either. Really, Connor was willing to sacrifice everyone else, more or less. That part was fine. It was, of course, clear that the Earth had way more people than it actually needed. Most of them weren't bright or self-controlled enough to prevent everything from falling apart, so it only made sense for someone to step forward and do it for them.

As long as there was a good chance that he wasn't going to end up dead it might be worth working on. Naturally, everyone that was doing that kind of work, trying to save the world, would be told that they would be in the special ten, or possibly five, percent that would be spared. His Father had told him the truth about that trick, however. That they might all be doomed, if they did their part. Even the leaders might well be planning to die in the actions taken.

Which wasn't a brilliant plan, as far as Connor was concerned. Even not wanting to live all that badly, it simply didn’t make sense for other people to think that way. Normal ones with their ability to touch others and to love and be loved.

Still, he didn’t get a choice in the matter and there did seem to be a small chance that he could survive the whole thing. At least if anyone were going to at all. Worse, the cause of the order itself seemed totally legitimate. The world was so overpopulated with human beings that each year they waited to handle the issue was a huge danger to the ultimate survival of people in general. If anyone was going to survive, most of them needed to die as soon as possible.

After his meeting the night before Connor had gone back to his room and figured out how to use the computer system there. It wasn't on the web, having an in-house system, instead. One that had provided far more information on climate change, overpopulation and several related problems that Connor hadn't really thought about than his schooling had bothered with. Mainly studies that had been done on rats, showing that populations would grow without restraint, until they collapsed. That seemed to hold for human beings as well.

So it was all real enough that way. Unless thousands of researchers had faked their data, in order to fool him, personally. A thing that didn’t sound too likely at all.

What he hadn't found anything about was why the decently competent plans of other groups had consistently been failing. There were files on that happening, with supposition as to it being artificial, rather than internal sabotage or simple failure due to lack of skill or planning. He'd needed to sleep, so had earmarked all of the files, hoping to find some kind of a clue or pattern in them, later.

Walker vanished into the stairwell, and even if Connor was going in the same rough direction, he didn’t catch up to the man. Instead he got back to his room, showered and changed into slacks and loafers, then started to read again, going over the seventy-three operations that hadn't worked, over the last twenty years.

A few of them were ridiculous, of course. The plan to bring in millions of demons, using ritual magic, for instance. Instead of doing that, the group of magicians had gotten about a hundred of the things into play and were promptly killed by them.

“Because, no duh. What part of killer demons did they not understand…” He muttered the words as he read. It was a poor habit, but not one that had ever been punished out of him.

The file seemed to be saying it was real enough, even if demons hadn't been discussed much in his classes. Not as something other than a myth or legend. Interestingly, there were pictures to go along with the files on that event. The beings didn't look like much, mainly being swirls and clouds of greasy looking black smoke. In a few places they did seem to have faces, though it was hard to tell for certain.

The dead bodies were a good bit more interesting, since they'd been torn to shreds. Limbs decorated the room they were in, so that part seemed like it might be effective.

At first Connor figured that, if it wasn't a hoax, then the problem was that the hundreds of demons were simply able to overwhelm the magic being used. Except that didn't seem to be the case. The experts brought in to examine the scene believed that the whole thing had been sabotaged, from the outside. As in, someone had been using a counter ceremony to break the hold on the demons, at exactly the right time to mess the whole thing up.

No one had a real guess who might be doing it, since that would be too helpful for his plan to find and stop the bad guys who were foiling all their plans. Those evil beings who, for some reason, wanted the whole planet to be turned into a lifeless ball of dust, instead of saving it for the worthy few.

Most of the plans had been fairly straight forward and easy to understand. Bio agents were put into different large societies, generally being airborne and allowed to spread when the sneezing and coughing started. The first tries had all failed, which had caused more virulent and powerful diseases to be tried. Along with hundreds of initial vector points for each one. It never worked, even if the models all showed that they literally couldn't fail, doing what they were. Possibly even if someone was trying to stop them.

Meaning that, whatever was going on, was a much bigger issue than he'd initially figured. Really, he'd sort of worked out that it might be a group of underlings in each organization, simply making sure that they weren't killed in whatever mess the different organizations had planned. If you didn’t get a choice except to try and kill everyone and knew that you were going to die if it happened, then sabotage sounded like a great option, to him.

If so, then it wasn't just a tiny group. It would have to be most of the people, in most of the groups. Even at that, they’d eventually fail to catch the actions of one or two motivated people. Which, if it were the case, he'd be able to find out about, simply by talking to enough of them. Not that he had a clue as to how to get that kind of thing set up.

The events that had the largest fingerprints on them when it came to stopping things were the wars. After the Vietnam police action in the seventies, each war after that had been extremely mild, comparatively. Part of that was simply the asymmetry. For instance, millions had died in Iraq, of those who lived there, while only a few thousand U.S. soldiers had. The numbers weren't anywhere near what would be needed to save the world though. War, while a big killer of humans, wasn't going to do the trick. Clearly.

Possibly a nuclear war could do it. The problem with that was the classic one that everyone already knew. If you blew up the world, you didn't have a world any longer. That would defeat the general purpose. That only left a few things to use. Massive droughts, leading to food shortages, plagues and viral agents, and the current plan of the Order, which seemed to be about influencing people using chemicals, to cause about ninety percent to kill themselves. The weak minded and poor, who ate things out of plastic containers on a regular basis.

So far, that one actually seemed to be working. Not that it was showing in death toll yet. The chemicals were in the water and food supply. When people were checked, they were in their bodies, at least in Western civilizations. Mainly in the larger cities, with country dwellers being safer, being on well water and at times growing their own food.

The problem was, of course, that about twenty percent of all people in North America should have already offed themselves given the saturation levels. Something extreme and powerful was keeping that from happening.

Which was where Connor needed to look first.

Standing up, he started to move from the room, planning to go to the one person he knew who might be able to help him track that sort of thing down. Doc. It wasn't until he got to the door that he realized that he didn't know where she was staying. Short of just walking around, knocking on doors, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that kind of thing there. He looked at the information on the computer, but it didn’t have that kind of thing labeled as far as he could find.

It was tempting to become annoyed, but he shook his head and smiled instead.

"Or, I could ask at the front desk?"

First he needed food, so cobbled together a meal, trying to follow the instructions on the back of a can of soup. It wasn't very good, being a bit burnt on the bottom, though that and some crackers filled him up enough that he wasn't going to fall down later, from hunger. It had claimed to be chicken and noodles. If so, then something had stripped the poor bird of all flavor before he'd gotten the can open. It was too salty, as well, since he’d failed to notice that he was supposed to add water, until after he’d eaten it all.

After that, feeling better, even if the food hadn't been tasty, in particular, he moved to the lobby area. The old man from the day before wasn't in sight, so Connor stood there, at a loss as for what he needed to do. That lasted for nearly twenty minutes, before someone called out to him, from the right of the room. Away from the hallway that held his room.

"Connor!" Turning, hearing a woman's voice, he was only a bit surprised to see that it was Parker, the pheromone lady from the last week, at lunch.

Smiling, since he didn’t want to be rude, he waved.

"Parker! How are you doing?" It seemed a kind enough thing to ask, since their lives were a bit stressful at the movement. What with people trying to kill them all, like they were.

"Oh... You know, I've been better. I was just going to go for a swim, would you like to join me?" She was in very little clothing. A bikini, except that it was tiny, even for that kind of thing. In a brilliant red.

She was attractive enough that it was tempting to go with her. If she went into the water wearing what she was, the top was, at the very least, going to slip off of her, which would be entertaining. Except that he had an assignment, which, as far as he knew, didn't involve him lusting after the woman in front of him. Plus, unless she was willing to have him do things to her or he wanted to simply do it, without bothering to get permission, they couldn't actually do much. Other than hang out. With a respectful distance between them.

A thing that suddenly sounded pretty normal. She was in her mid-twenties or so and even if she tended toward being flirtatious, she was smart enough to stop about fifteen feet away from him.

He faked a wince, and tried to look sad.

"I'd love to, but can't right now. I'm working on a project. Just a learning thing that my Dad set me to do. I think to prevent me from getting bored. Right now, I kind of need to find Doctor Short. I have no clue how to do that, of course." He spread his hands, trying to look annoyed by the work at hand. Not that he felt that way. Then, no one was holding him under their clever anti-lying field, so he had an advantage that way.

Pushing her chest out a bit obviously, clearly not meaning it, the woman stepped toward him a bit. Then she spoke, not seeming able to stop herself.

"Normally I wouldn't tell you, since I don't want Doctor Nerd Girl stealing you away from me. Not that I'm having any luck there so far. It's part of my job, making sure you're willing to work with us. Mariah. That's who I'm really working for." She seemed a bit shocked at her own words, but didn’t try to run away. She didn’t even take them back or try to deflect. Then, that probably wasn’t going to really happen.

Connor just nodded.

"Oh? Well, sure. I mean, I have nothing against that particular group, that I know of. You know where Doc Short is though? You kind of just hinted at that." Before she'd spilled the beans about her other job. Her main one, from the sound of it.

He didn't care though, personally. That kind of thing, infiltration, sounded like it was common. At least his mother had been doing that kind of work, before she'd died. That she'd sexually molested him tried to poke at his mind then, as well. A thing that he’d not thought about since finding out about it. At least he’d been trying not to dwell on the idea. The truth was, he didn't recall it at all. While it left him uneasy to know about, it didn't actually hurt or leave him feeling upset or angry.

Part of that was simply that he knew that his Father wasn't lying to him about it. To the best of the man’s knowledge, it had simply taken place. That lifted a lot of potential doubt about the situation, even finding out about it a decade later. Clearing his head, Connor smiled a bit, ignoring what had been going on inside his rain box. After all, not everyone was going to be a good person in life. Not all of the bad ones were worthless, either. Some of the most brilliant people in history had probably been huge assholes or far less than savory.

Parker sighed, her chest moving out more than was needed for that kind of thing to take place. Almost as if she were aiming it at him, on purpose. Trying to control him using her body.

"First hallway, room seven, that side. The one that you're on. Now, if you aren't setting off an alarm, I should get away from you, before I go into all of the other secrets. Like how I'm not really interested in you, even though I have orders to get you into bed, if I can." She grimaced a bit, and moved back, her lips still trying to move, even as no sound came out.

Connor nodded at the words.

"Well,  I can see that one. The not being interested in me part of things. Though, I just have to say, great personality here. I mean... Totally worth spending time with. Plus, I have a really cute behind." That probably wasn't the truth and almost certainly wouldn't be the issue at hand. Even though he attempted to look behind himself, playfully.

The woman, holding a white towel in her right hand, hugged it to her side. Seeming almost upset.

"Sorry. This trick of yours is kind of intense, isn't it? Really, you should report me. That will probably end up with me being kicked out, if not killed. Still, that isn't your problem and if you don’t do it, you might be in trouble. It’s pretty clear they can’t really trust you yet." Then, quickly, she walked off. Showing that her behind was rather shapely as well.

Connor just followed her instructions, getting to room seven in about the same time it would have taken to get back to his own room. He knocked on the door, wondering if he should have called first. Not that he had a way of doing that. When it opened Doc froze, then leaned back, her face seeming shocked.

She didn't go zombie, having managed to stay far enough away from him to easily prevent that. He was standing back himself, which helped. They had a good five feet between them.

The woman had her standard white lab coat on. It washed her pale skin out, more than a little bit.

"Hey, Connor. I was just thinking about heading over to your room for a booty call later. Did you come to do that now?" She moved back, allowing him to flow in after her, the door being shut.

Inside, she backed off a bit, to about ten feet, then waved for him to follow along.

Her front space was filled with lab equipment, instead of places to sit. Even her big and special looking refrigerator was there. The vials and syringes seeming the same as they had the other day. At least to his uneducated eye. There was no lock on the thing, so if he ever needed to borrow some lethal pathogens he could probably just help himself. Then, stealing might not be needed, if it came up. So far Doc had been more than nice to him and might just share that sort of thing.

Moving away a bit, he spoke, his voice strong, given the distance.

"I wasn't planning on that, actually. Later though, if you want? Or really, if you have the time and are willing. Right now, well I have two things. First, Parker just mentioned that she was working for the Mariah group, and had orders to get me into bed. That might not be her only task, from the sound of it. She did mention I should report her, which was helpful. I just don't know who I'm supposed to get with for that. Then I need some help with some science type stuff. When I think of science junk, I instantly think about you. I also instantly think of you when sex comes up, in case you need to hear that sort of thing from me. It’s true." He got ready to explain that portion of things, when Doc made an annoyed sound.

"Crap. I hate Mariah. Inept science paired with child sacrifice magic that doesn't even work. Let me call that in. We'll want Doug Walker on that. He’s in charge of security." The instant she spoke the name, Connor felt like rolling his eyes. He didn't do it, since being shocked painfully wasn't fun. Even if he wasn't wearing a harness, his mind still considered it as a potential problem. If he ever had one of those on again, he didn’t want to have a big collection of things to get caught up on.

Pulling a strange, rather clunky looking cell phone, if it was one of those, being covered with small wire coils, heavy lines that connected to them and not enough buttons like it was. The color was silvery, hinting at gray and it looked like it might be uncomfortable to carry in a pocket. Too many things on it looked pokey, at least to him.

After a moment, two buttons being pushed rapidly at the same time, Bertie started to speak. Her voice rapid and a bit annoyed seeming.

"Walker? This is Short. Harriman, Connor, just got with me. Apparently, Parker just admitted to him that she's with Mariah. Also, that she has orders to seduce him, if possible. Probably in an attempt to turn him." She listened for a second or two and then nodded, holding her hand over the mouthpiece of the silver device. "What did you say, when she told you that? About Mariah?"

Connor spoke then, just going into the truth, since there was no reason not to at the moment.

Unless there was.

"That I was fine with that? At least I don't know anything negative about Mariah, so... It wasn't a problem for me. We didn't have a long conversation about it. She recommended that I report her, so I don’t get in trouble."

That got repeated, the man's voice just barely audible to Connor as he stood back. Meaning that it was pretty loud. As in, the man wasn't taking the news as mildly as Connor or even Doc, had. As if it might be a slightly bigger deal to him than it seemed like to begin with.

After a bit, Doc nodded once, and smirked.

"Got it. I think Connor is going to be in my lab for the time being. Having sex or possibly doing something science related. He said that last part, but I'm not certain it isn't a line. So, you know, knock first, before barging in?" She laughed, then hung up with the press of a single button. It clicked, audibly.

Then the franken-phone was tucked, almost delicately, into her side pocket.

Turning to him, she pushed her glasses up. The thick frames not moving much, if at all.

"So, if we're doing real science today, move away from me? It's too hard to think creatively, otherwise. If it’s about sex, then we need lube first. Don’t go in dry. That leads to chaffing."

He walked backward, going slowly, as to make certain he wasn't going to trip over anything expensive. When his back was against the far wall, she realized that she was going to have to move back as well. That let them speak from about thirty feet away, both of them hugging walls, on opposite sides of the room.

"There's a plan underway, to use chemicals in the food and water to get people to kill themselves. It isn't working. I was wondering if we could figure out what's stopping it? Some kind of chemical to block things, maybe... That or, I don't know, putting in false reports about what's in the food? That kind of thing." He felt stupid, saying all of that. Instead of staying where she was, Doc moved deeper into the room, closer to him, and pulled a small, hardened against EMP, data pad off the coffee table that had been left there. Then she moved back to her previous position.

After nearly three minutes of tapping and reading, the small, rather young looking old woman cleared her throat.

"Got it. I do see what you mean. We'll want front line readings on things. I mean we need to get the data ourselves, since we can’t trust anyone else’s work. Food and water samples. Then, depending on what we find, we might need to chase things up the enemy food chain. I can... Work on that tonight, if you don't mind missing your fun time with me later? How important is this to you?" She winked, as if sex wasn't going to come first to his teenage boy’s mind.

"It's not that important, of course. It's probably nothing, after all. I mean, what are the odds that I’d look into this on my first day and work out a problem that has been stopping people for over a hundred years? I’m incredible, of course, but that sounds a bit unlikely. Still, we should look into it. I need to find out who's sabotaging everything, if I can. Do you know anything about what’s been preventing us from saving the world?" She was too far away to be forced into honesty, of course.

Instead of worrying about it, he just listened. It was how normal conversations took place, after all.

"Other than having investigated twenty different plans of my own that didn't work, for some strange reason? Not much. Whoever, or I suppose, whatever, is doing this has been remarkably good about covering their tracks. They're there, but they always just walk me in a circle. I mean, I can find what happened, but it seems to come back to the people doing the work in the first case, each time. Including on my own projects, which isn't what happened. On the last half dozen I got video of everything I did, so can prove that I didn't fake data or derail things from my end. The investigation still showed otherwise."

The words barely made sense to him. Still, that was probably close to what would have to happen, if whoever was doing it wanted to avoid capture. If Doc had video evidence to prove she wasn't acting under mind control or as an agent for some other team, that should indicate that the data was being faked later. Meaning, if it was true, that it wasn't a giant conspiracy from the organizations themselves.

"So, an outside group is doing this. One that can infiltrate well enough to change things, without being caught on video?"

Across the room from him, her clunky pad in hand, Doc shrugged.

"Maybe? We need a break, if we're going to find them." She stopped then, tapping for a bit. After a long while, she looked up, then smiled. "Anyway, I couldn’t help but notice that you're still alive. So, the meeting went well, last night?" She seemed interested, which was a bit odd. After all, it had to be a thing that she’d seen a hundred or more times before.

He nodded though, since it was possible that he was just more interesting than he’d ever assumed before. That or she honestly wanted him to think so. Which had to be close to the same thing. Or would if she’d been closer to him. At the distance she was at the moment he knew for a fact that she could lie to him.

"I think so. I decided to see if I could work out why everything keeps failing, if I can. See if I can get anything done that way or at least uncover who we’re working against. I didn't do any ceremonies or anything like that, so I'm probably not actually in the Order yet. They didn’t even teach me the secret handshake or give me a membership card." Whatever it was that their secret group did that way. Being raped and abused, from the sound of it. That and tricked into making mistakes.

Which wasn't going to work on him. Not easily.

His friend, if they were that close, looked over the top of her computing device. Her brown eyes glinting a bit.

"That will come, sooner or later. Still, jumping right into work is the best way to avoid things like that. You'll need to get the loyalty testing done, as well. Using the machine. I'll set that up for you. After dinner? I can't do the work on it, since we're dating. Even the Sisyphean Order won't allow that kind of thing to get in the way."

She grinned at her own words. Then, it was clear she was lying to him. Not about the need for him to be checked out, just the dating idea. He really didn't doubt that she had no intention of doing anything like that at all. If she was closer to him, the words wouldn't have even come out, he was willing to bet.

It was a thing he could basically understand. At school he'd always stuck with guys that were no more than a year or two younger than he was. Even at that, it hadn't been what he liked. Most of his boyfriends had been the same age or older. Not because he was a great guy that didn't do kids out of moral objections, as much as him not having anything in common with the younger ones. Except that they went to the same school, which somehow had never seemed like enough.

With Bertie, things were like that, only about a hundred and thirty times worse. She wasn't just older than he was, she was actually ancient. So old that, even if he were more worldly and educated in popular culture from the last century, it was very possible that they still couldn't have a good conversation about such matters. They just didn’t have a shared context for most of it. They functionally couldn't. Granted, she did a great job at seeming younger than her years. That didn’t mean she wanted to put up with his poor conversational talents for any length of time.

So, dating in a meaningful way, was probably out for them.

Rather than take the bait, he simply nodded.

"Where do I need to go for that?"

She didn't act like he was ignoring her words, just looking at the door at the front of the lab space for a moment. A hint that she wanted him to get out of her space, without being forced to say it.

"Come back here, at about eight? I'll call this in and make certain we're doing it tonight. We might not. It depends on who's available right now. If we have someone that can run the tech, we'll probably be on their schedule."

He was still just standing there, on the far side of the room, feeling a bit purposeless, when the pocket phone of his friend rang. She picked it up, making one of the buttons click loudly almost instantly.

"Short here. Go ahead." There was listening then, and a soft noise, that came about fifteen seconds into the conversation.

Finally, she spoke, her voice loud enough to carry.

"We can do that. I was just about to see about it, honestly. For a different project. Connor Harriman requested that we allow him to prove his good will, since it might be a problem, otherwise. It's a good plan. We're doing that after dinner tonight. About eight. We can do Parker at the same time, if you want?"

That seemed to be about right, since the grunting sounds she made after that sounded about right. Positive and friendly.

When she clicked the thing back off, she waved toward the door.

"So, we get a twofer, it looks like. That was Bennet. She's coming in to see about Parker anyway. Spies are expected, but we don't normally have them confessing in the hallways, on camera. Not like this. On the good side, we can test her using the machine as well, then if you live, run her past you. Not that anyone is doubting her word on this. She didn't even bother lying about it, when Walker picked her up. You should go and do something fun for a while. Watch television and rot your brain or play a videogame. I'll see you later. Sweetie."

She seemed nearly wicked, on the last word.

Connor moved away from her, heading toward the door to the space.

"Later, honey. I'll be outside, a bit before eight. We can have some of that unmemorable sex after that? Well, I mean, I remember it..."

She smiled at him, seeming nearly sweet about it, as he walked out, looking back at her.

"That's pretty much about ninety percent of sex, regardless of who you are, so don't feel too bad about it. Sure though. As long as they don't execute you after reading your thoughts, I mean. That probably won't happen." She seemed to be teasing, so he nodded.

The point was all about him being a pain in the behind to work with, he didn’t doubt. He had a power, of sorts. It worked pretty well in a few places, like in finding out who was against them. It should be useful if anyone tried to attack him personally, hand to hand, as well. When they touched him, he'd be fighting an unmoving zombie who wasn't going to be motivated to hurt him any longer.

Everything else about his ability made him harder to deal with than a regular person was. A true annoyance at best, who needed to be avoided whenever possible. Even fairly honest people didn't really want most of their secrets to spill forth unbidden, after all.

Waving, he left the lab. Or rather the room that was otherwise identical to his own that had been turned into a laboratory. That part, getting the equipment in, was probably special. At least no one had indicated that he could have done something similar. Not that it was needed. Connor didn't have a clue how to use most of what had been in the room at all. Even the pocket phone or the data pad might just be too much for him to manage.

Taking off to his room, he felt a bit uneasy. Not just because of the massive changes in the last few days, either. After all, if someone were to know all his secrets, they'd probably work out that he was at least a bit uncertain as to how loyal he was planning to be, in regards to the Order. Not that he wasn't going to be all in on the idea. After all, he didn't particularly want to die and it seemed like it was kind of a family tradition. Belonging to the special organization and helping to destroy the world, or at least most of the people in it.

Instead of finding a game to play, or watching a picture show on the large screen in his room, he brought up the computer files about the attempts to save the world that had failed again and kept pouring over them. Re-reading each and every one of them. Mainly to distract himself from the plans that were going to come, later in the evening.

After all, it didn't matter how well you lied, if the truth was a thing you didn't really understand anyway. That was a fact Connor felt himself to be fairly certain of. He just didn't know how he felt about some things in his life. Most of them, he had to admit, since honesty seemed to be the current theme of his reality.

He didn’t understand almost anything about his world at all.

Chapter eight

Connor had to appreciate the welcome he received later that evening. The machine that he was placed into had straps to hold his head steady, made of leather, with plastic buckles on it. There was a table as well, with a shaped headrest that was, oddly, rather comfortable. Then, for some reason the woman who walked into the room and ordered him to lie down didn’t bother with the straps at all.

Which made sense. No one could touch him without going zombie. Clearly the older woman, who had enough wrinkles to show character, while being fit and cute enough that no one would be surprised if she could get a date, had clearly been briefed about what it took to work with him.

The machine itself hovered over his head, attached to the wall by a single actuating arm. It was made of metal, though from the look of it there was brass in the works, instead of steel. He’d been told not to have anything magnetic on him, before he left his own room. No one had mentioned why, of course. Just that it wasn’t allowed. To that end he’d come in dressed in slacks, running shoes and a simple light blue button up shirt. No belt, since the ones he had all had metal involved. He didn’t even own a watch or cell phone, so that meant he was probably within the rules he’d been given.

Bennet, the lady he was supposed to meet, if he was with her at all and not some random technician, smiled at him. It actually seemed… Friendly. Like she meant it and wasn’t just putting him at ease so Connor would relax before being killed.

“Mr. Harriman, have you ever been under a cognitive analysis machine before?” She said the words as if it was something ordinary. Like asking him if he’d ever been to a dentist or knew how haircuts worked.

Smiling back, since the woman was standing about ten feet back, meaning her friendliness was real, he spoke gently. Smoothly, for him.

“No. That one hasn’t come up before for me. How does it work?” It seemed like the sort of thing you were supposed to ask before having a medical procedure.

Bennet seemed to find it funny.

“It uses a process similar to an F-MRI to note brain activity, while also measuring the electrical impulse frequency and origin location. The computer analyses your reactions on an in-depth level. It’s basically a very advanced lie detector. The big difference is that this kind actually works. Even if you’re insane, it will show that and be able to separate fantasy from truth. You’ll have to hold your head still for me. I’ll ask the questions. Just answer as honestly as possible. This won’t take that long, I don’t think. We just need to make certain of your alliances.”

She sounded friendly, even if others had mentioned that the price for failing was going to be his death. It was nerve wracking, given that. Enough so that Connor could feel sweat forming on his forehead and under his arms.

Still, moving his head around to ruin things would probably be a bit too obvious and could lead to his death as well.

“Understood, ma’am.”

There was a buzzing from the machine that seemed hover over his face. A blue light came out of the machine, hitting him in the middle of his no doubt shining forehead. Probably lining things up, so that it could find his brain. How that worked wasn’t described to him at all. On the good side, if it worked and he wasn’t killed, it would be proof positive that he did, indeed, have a brain in his head.

The older woman cleared her throat gently.

“Mr. Harriman, how do you feel about the Sisyphean Order?”

The question wasn’t where he’d expected to start. Honestly, he’d figured that one to be kept until nearly the end. A trap for him, that wasn’t going to be gotten out of easily. Especially since, apparently, he had no choice except to tell the truth.

After a moment, trying to arrange his thoughts to no real avail, he spoke. His words surprised him a bit, even if they were basically what he’d been thinking since he’d heard about the Order in the first place.

“I don’t know? I guess I can get behind the idea of killing most of the world’s population in order to save the rest. I’ve looked at the data, so… yeah, that one just makes sense to me. The Order itself… Really, I haven’t seen or heard anything to make me think that highly of them, other than the fact that they’re actually trying to do something.” He waited, wondering if the machine dangling over his head was going to surge with power or kill him using some other, quieter, mechanism. A shot in the arm, for instance.

There was a pause, then Bennet went on. Still sounding roughly like she was fine with what he’d just said. Pleasant, at least.

“If we leave you alive, are you willing to work with us in that goal? Billions of people will die, if we’re successful. There’s a good chance that you and I won’t survive it either. I dare say that you’ll be sacrificed on purpose, given your personal powers. You’re a long-term liability, since you can’t mesh with any system that requires human contact.”

Connor wanted to close his eyes. To refuse to answer. To hide from the obvious. He was, in the end, a liability in almost every way.

Even to himself.

“I know. I mean, I can see that we still need to save the world, even if it means that I have to die to make it happen. Really, anyone doing something like that probably shouldn’t be allowed to live through it. We need to pick who lives and they shouldn’t be monsters. Even if the monsters are needed to make it happen in the first place.”

From the side of his eye, Connor noticed the woman, sitting in a black chair, in front of a computer desk, tap on a keyboard for a while. When she spoke, her voice was a bit cool. That or bored.

“You… accept that you’re a liability in a long-term setting?”

He didn’t nod, even if he kind of wanted to. He had orders not to, after all.

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. No one required him to, either.

Certainly not Bennet.

“Very well. This is… Well, not how we normally do things in the Order. Most of the time you’d have been raised with more than a bit of brainwashing, and we’d force you to do things that would be recorded, for long term blackmail purposes. Eating children after raping them is a popular one for most of the various groups. Doing that with you won’t work. There are the tests of loyalty as well. Then, we normally don’t just place people in a machine like this, either. Do you know why that is, Mr. Harriman?”

She sounded abstract and matter of fact, instead of manipulative.

“Because it doesn’t work? I mean, most people probably aren’t really going to throw in with something like this on purpose, are they? Even psychopaths are going to be more interested in themselves, instead of the long-term goal. For them it would have to be… I don’t know, about protecting themselves, instead of saving everyone they can. If you put everyone in this kind of machine, you’d have to kill most of them, leaving no one to blackmail into doing the work you want done.”

Those words got a muffled laugh. It was tempting to look over, but he couldn’t do it without turning his head. Waiting, Connor didn’t know what was going to happen next. It sounded like he was either being set up to be allowed into the Order, or killed before leaving the room. He functionally couldn’t be blackmailed, after all. Anyone trying to do that by force would find that they just stopped in place and did what he said they should, as soon as they got too close.

He wasn’t abusing any little kids either and cannibalism wasn’t a taste treat he wanted to try for himself, if given a choice. Really, he’d take a bullet to the head first, even if that went against his years of programing at Etain. Just being dead sounded nice at the moment, actually. Which, it occurred to him, probably had to do with the chemicals in the food, instead of his horrible life. Not that anyone would blame him for that, if they learned anything about him at all.

So, he waited. Not even letting himself feel upset over his impending death.

Bennet tapped something and asked another question.

“You’ve been involved with Doctor Short. How do you feel about that? Do you love her?”

He blinked, when asked that one.

“Um… No. I like her all right, since she let me have sex with her. Really, she’s kind of a bad person, outside of that. Not… She’s said some stuff. Weird things. Especially when she isn’t under my influence. Then she gets a bit better. I mean, she tried to distract me by implying she was my great-great-grandmother once. She wasn’t totally outside of my field effect. Then she said it was a lie, so it probably is.” That had been odd, even though he eventually understood the reasoning behind it. She’d been trying to protect the Order.

Or him, from the Order. That part wasn’t certain at all.

The woman tapped a few times and then laughed.

“She is a bit of a character. Old, of course. Probably insane in ways that you and I can’t even begin to understand. I’ve always wondered why she’s so far down in the power structure here. She’s been higher in other organizations over the years. Anyway, you can get up now.” She sighed and tapped a few more times. “You didn’t lie at all here, which is rare. Normally people try to protect themselves more than this. The long and short of it is that we’re letting you in. You won’t betray us. No more than anyone else at any rate. Less than most. That places you in a very special situation, Mr. Harriman.”

She stopped speaking, watching him stand up, his running shoes touching the ground softly, as he did it. Then, after a moment he took a step forward. Toward the woman behind the desk. Her dark hair moved as she looked over at him, a smile curling on her lips.

She let a single eyebrow come up.

“It isn’t the norm for us, but the truth is that you’re too valuable to simply get rid of. Yet. Even the challenges of working with you are worth it. The issue, is of course, that we cannot expect to keep anything from you, long term. No secret is safe. No plan will be left undisclosed. Using that ability against those who would harm us or get in the way of our plans is… Well, mind boggling, to say the least. At the same time, recruits on their first day aren’t normally brought into the upper echelons of power. In order to use you, we have to do that, which won’t please most of the elite.”

“I can see that. So…” He’d probably do something like keep him on an island. Then bring in those they wanted to be questioned. He could do it all on video, never meeting those who had secrets to keep.

Bennet stood up then, hitting a single key as she did it. It made a soft clicking sound. A thing she explained, since they were far too close for her not to.

“I sent my recommendation off. I have final say, in all of this and for the time being, I don’t want to lose the resources it would take to try and kill you. We could do it, of course. We have robots and machines that can kill, well enough. Announcing that I intended to kill you would force you to flee, which right now, at this location, we can’t stop. Especially if your powers flare when stressed, as it seems they might. So, instead, you’re in and we’re placing you in the second outer circle.” She smiled then shrugged. “Which means that you aren’t just one of us, but fairly important to the Order now. We won’t give you any real command power, though, so don’t feel too good about it. You have rank, but nothing else. In return for that, we expect you to keep your mouth shut, when you find out all our secrets.”

She winced then, as if that hadn’t been what she really wanted him to know.

To him it made sense.

“That sounds better than a bullet to the head. What do we do first? I was planning to try and find who’s been stopping all the plans from working.” That might be over reaching, for the new kid.

Rather than seem upset, Bennet laughed again. It sounded a bit unhinged, for some reason. Like a character from a story that, frankly, was trying to seem kind of evil.

“Do that and you might actually be allowed to live. No one has been able to even touch whoever, or whatever, is stopping our plans. No one, from any of the groups or governments. It’s like hunting ghosts, without knowing where the haunted house is.” She shrugged then, and started to move toward the door of the room. “That sounds like a plan. We’ll also want you to be available to question people. Is that something you’re willing to do?”

Connor returned the shrug.

“Yes. Especially since you can just tie me up using a robot and cart me into a room in order to get the answers you need. I might as well walk, right?”

That got him pointed at, happily.

“Nice point! It really is better to have you working with us. I’ll put my contact information into the system directly. You work for me, from now on. Keep that in mind. No one here outranks you, but you also don’t have a clue what you’re doing. If I don’t tell you to do something, then you’re responsible for your own actions. If you mess up too many times, we’ll have to take other actions. For now…” She paused, moving back a bit. Still, not out of range.

When she spoke, her words were intense, compared to what had come out earlier. Almost as if she were slightly unwell, mentally.

“For now, stay here. You’ll be able to move in a few days. Keep a bag packed, once you get home. We’ll want you to be able to move at a moment’s notice.” Then, instead of leaving, the woman pointed at the door.

“Head to the left, and take the stairs at the end of the hallway. I’m going to use the teleportation device to leave from here directly.” She smiled then. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. It isn’t common knowledge that we have that kind of thing. If I don’t leave soon, the time distortion from it will make me sick, which I hate.”

Connor absorbed the idea and walked out, following her instructions. Alive and planning to stay that way, for the time being, or so it seemed. There was the idea that Bennet had cleared him and that her boss might change the orders given, of course. That was just life. What you were told, by anyone, was only going to be true for a limited time.

On the third floor, Connor went back to his own room, not knowing what else the night would hold for him. That, it turned out, was something different than he’d expected. There were people in his room, waiting for him. None of them were wearing decorative robes or were naked, which was probably a signal that they’d come to chat, instead of finish the ceremony or whatever.

Sitting and standing in the sitting area, with Walker and one of the other guards standing behind the others. The two men wearing all black suits with white shirts. They had small black guns in their hands.

In a chair that had been moved toward the far wall on the right, sat his father. The lean man held a small smile on his face. He didn’t say anything in particular. On the other side of the room was a handcuffed and bound Parker. She was in a tight red dress that didn’t really seem like what the woman should be wearing as a prisoner. It showed too much cleavage and that she wasn’t wearing anything under it. At least there were no lines visible from that kind of thing.

She wasn’t better dressed than the others, except for Doc, who came out of the kitchen, her face lighting up when she noticed him passing. They were about ten feet away from one another.

“There you are. I was worried that you’d be busy catching bullets or learning to drink cyanide Cherry-Ade about now. I take it that things went well? I mean, I wouldn’t leave you alive otherwise and I have to think Bennet is in the same mold. I trained her to be like that, after all. That was the last time I was in the Order… about thirty years back, or so.”

Everyone looked at him, as if the news would be interesting or perhaps entertaining. Which it was, to him. That anyone else there would care made little to no sense to Connor at all. Then again, Bertie was standing there, close enough to him that lying would be impossible. Even for her. She sounded fairly well pleased that he wasn’t dead. It was something to keep in mind, even if she was a bit strange, from time to time.

That Parker was looking at him was interesting, since she wasn’t scowling or seeming ready to fight. Her hands were in front of her, connected to a chain that showed her ankles were cuffed together as well, which seemed out of what was needed for the scene. She really didn't seem upset or as if she feared for her life.

Connor nodded, as he moved into the room, hedging toward Parker, since it was kind of clear that getting her to tell the truth was going to be the plan for the evening.

“I was promoted. Something about the second circle? Bennet is my direct boss, I think. At least she told me that if I messed up I was responsible for my own mistakes, even if one of you tried to order me to do it.” He tried to seem professional, as he moved directly to Parker and touched her on the shoulder, clasping her there. She was shapely and warm enough that keeping his hand there was nice. Not that he was going to do anything with the woman. She hadn’t given him permission to that night. Plus, it was weird, having all those other people in the room. He might be all right with it if it were only, say Doc and Walker. Doing anything with his Father there just felt weird.

She didn't speak, her jaw going a bit slack as the light left her eyes.

“Relax, Parker. We have some questions for you. Please answer completely.” He was willing to let everyone else ask what they wanted, and got ready to tell them to do that, since it made sense to him. Doc Short moved over by his father, and waved at him a bit before he could do that.

“We need the Mariah code key, first thing. If we can get that before they understand we have her…”

It was a bit abrupt sounding to him. Still, Connor just relayed the question, instead of trying to show he was the one in charge. Technically that was the case. It didn't mean he knew what information they needed.

“Parker, what is the Mariah code key?”

The woman sounded very flat affected as she spoke. Dead inside, or very nearly so.

“A-seven minus three, displaced by nine.”

He thought he got the idea, it was a cipher key for a replacement code, the information being written down by Doc, on her clunky looking data pad. Before she could look up, Stephen spoke, his words bland.

“What was her duty here?”

That question took several questions to get to the answer. Not because anything was being hidden, rather that the woman had six different jobs there, even if she’d only spoken of two before that point. None of them sounded all that dire. The worst one was that she was supposed to try and find a way to crack the Order’s secret computer system. From the sound of it, that wasn’t the one that Connor had been given access to.

His hand on her shoulder didn’t move, even if they started asking things that he didn’t know much about at all.

For his part, he simply repeated what others asked of him.

“What do you know about the Jason Group, Parker?”

That got an interesting answer, since it came with an actual shrug. A thing that very few bothered to do when in contact with him. It showed that her indicating she really didn't know was her current truth, at least on that one subject.

Her words indicated the same thing.

“I know about what the rest of you do. They’re concentrating on the creation of transhuman super beings. Immortals that have godlike powers. I’m not in their loop at all.”

Everything was gone over, several times, without finding a lot of new information. A little, probably meaning that the boring work was worth doing, just for that. In the end, Stephen waved to his son, his lean face seeming flat.

“Let go of her now, if you don’t have anything else for her to answer that she won’t recall later? Stay close to her, however. We need to fake a questioning, leaving the key things out. Can you run that, Connor?”

The question was actually a good one, even if it sounded a bit like the plan was for him to fail at it. There were things that it would be best for the woman not to recall having told them, after all. Standing back about six feet, he waited the fifteen seconds the woman needed to come back to herself.

Then he started right in.

“Parker, what were your orders here, in regards to myself?” She’d already mentioned that portion of things. It was a side project that had come up in the last days, after he was kicked out of school. No one knew if it was going to be important or not on her side of things.

Her face held a smile when she said the words, this time.

“I’m supposed to get you into bed, if I can. Better, I was set to getting you to marry me, if possible. It wasn’t considered very likely. Other than that, I was supposed to try and get you to confide in me. The goal was to steal you away from the Order, if I could pull it off.”

Nodding, he went on to the next idea.

“What about Stephen Harriman? What were your orders there?”

That answer was a good bit more interesting. No one in the world figured that the young woman and she wasn’t old at all, would be able to entice the man with her charms. Not even using her pheromone trick. That one was a tool for her to use, without it being that novel or considered clever at all. The man’s medical nano network would remove the chemicals from the air before they could even touch him.

Connor allowed himself to be drawn off into tangents, with Parker clearly trying to use the truth to lead him away from certain ideas. No mention was made of her being there to get at the secret system, for instance. She started to speak on it a few times, and stopped talking, fighting not to give herself away. Then a different truth was barked out. As if she’d been fighting that information, not the real truth.

Even to him it was incredibly obvious. Still, half an hour later, as she was starting to go over the fact that she didn't find him very interesting at all, for the third time, Connor moved back by about ten feet.

Turning to the room, he looked at Doc, instead of his Father.

“That should do it. What’s the plan now?” Killing the spy came to mind, except that, if they were going to do that, it didn’t make a lot of sense to do the questioning in a way that the woman would recall at all. The trick, of course, was for him to seem mildly annoyed that the hot woman didn’t appreciate him physically. Even if he did have a cute behind. All that running and being lean worked for that, pretty well, he had to figure.

That she had no real use for him wasn’t the most wonderful thing in the world to hear, but he was used enough to hearing that kind of thing it didn’t actually derail his thinking.

Bertie stood up and waved at the other woman.

“Do you want to do her? The rest of us can leave, if you want. Or we can watch?”

The words weren’t pointed at him at all. Instead they seemed to be for the woman who was shackled to the chair. A thing that, from her answers before, wouldn’t bother her that much. The problem there was that Doc had created a dilemma for him, since he was going to be forced to answer now. It was, from what he’d been told, kind of normal for the different groups to be rather deviant, sexually. The Order wasn’t the worst that way, even. Mariah however was pretty sick that way, so their captive wouldn’t expect to not be used by them, even if she was being let go.

After the woman being questioned having told him all about how she thought he wasn’t that great looking or interesting, everyone there would probably think that the normal thing for him to do, at least for a member of one of their collective groups, would be to use the woman. Probably in a painful or humiliating fashion. If he didn’t do that kind of thing, he’d appear weak.

Except that Connor didn’t really want to bother with the woman at all that way. He could come up with nifty tricks and even tortures and she wouldn’t recall it later, if he did it. Just forcing her to have sex wouldn’t even really bother her much, he didn’t doubt.

Rather than let himself seem upset, he countered with a different offer.

“We can all take turns? Or we can just shoot her… Whichever works for you.” Connor locked eyes with Doctor Short, who actually made a face at him, from where she sat, along the far wall. It seemed annoyed.

A thing he could feel for himself.

No one in the room moved for a bit, as a buzzing came from several phones in the room. All of them. Not that he had one of his own. The hardline on the table across the room rang, as everyone pulled what they had, to read about what was going on.

Walker was the one that explained to himself and Parker.

“We have an issue in Australia. A situation that might involve some of our assets. Meaning we don’t have time for fun right now. Mr. Harriman, we need to move you, now. Doctor Short, you’re needed in your lab.” He stopped for a moment and looked at Connor, his shoulders coming up. “Connor, you’re actually off to the problem area. It’s a hostage situation. You’ll be briefed on the way. We have to move, now.”

Connor acted like he knew what was going on, and moved out, walking rapidly. Walker followed him, with his father about ten feet behind the large man. No one spoke until they got out of the hallway. Connor expected to be informed that there was no real emergency, and that it had been a clever ruse to get him out of the room without having to rape Parker, which didn’t happen at all. Stephen stopped and waved at him.

“There’s a cargo flight leaving in one hour. We’ll have your papers on the plane. Meet your transport on level two. That’s… We have an automated vehicle ready for him?”

Walker didn’t answer, looking at his phone and tapping on it, instead.

“Right. That’s ready and programed. It will be waiting for you by the stairs. Don’t pack or take anything with you. We don’t have time. It’s the car without a driver. Clearly, sit in the front seat, behind the wheel. Otherwise the police will try to pull you over and you don’t have time for that right now.”

That made sense. Not that the police could arrest him or anything. It was probably one of the good things about being him, to be honest.

“Got it. I’ll go now.” He started to jog away, half hoping he was going to be called back, or told that someone else was supposed to go with him. That didn't happen. His Father did call out, at least.

“Be careful! Remember, dying isn’t a winning strategy.”

That was all he said. Waving over his shoulder, Connor let his feet make soft padding sounds on the carpet. When he hit the stairs he ran full out, even if he wasn’t certain what was going on.

There really was a car waiting for him, however. As he climbed into the thing, it occurred to him that a robot car might just drive him off a bridge, to his death. No one would have to shoot him or anything, that way.

“Um, hello. I’m Connor Harriman.” If he was supposed to do anything in particular he didn't know about it.

After a moment, the small blue car, which had a wheel in the driver’s seat area, spoke to him.

“Please buckle your seat belt, passenger. The primary destination will be reached in forty-seven minutes after that happens.”

He hurried, in case the plan wasn’t just to drive him to his death. Then again, Bennet hadn’t lied to him, and neither had anyone else. If it was a trick, then they didn't know about it, which was nice, really. If it was a betrayal, no one he knew personally was in on it.

“Buckled up!”

“Very good, passenger. We will now commence.”

The driver, which he guessed was the car itself, didn’t speak to him that often. It wasn’t until nearly forty minutes later than an explanation came at all.

“Destination in seven minutes. It will be on the left.”

That, it turned out was a rather ugly gray plane. A thing that he doubted would be able to fly to Australia. Not without refueling several times. It was large and clunky looking, instead of being streamlined and jet like.

Still, when the car stopped, a familiar face showed up at the top of the stairs. That was actually a truck, with moveable stairs on the back. At the top, standing with her back to the light coming from inside, was Bennet.

His boss.

She still looked decently cute. Enough that Connor wondered if she’d be willing to have sex with him. The only thing stopping him was that he didn't want that, him asking for things like that, to be what got him killed. It was pretty certain she was allowed to order that kind of thing if he got too difficult to be worth working with.

“Mr. Harriman, this way. Hurry, we don’t have much time to put your skills into play. We need to get the subjects back, quickly. There’s going to be distortion with this one. We can’t help that, this time.”

He jogged up the stairs, the metal making clanking noises as he hurried. At the top, Bennet floated back, not allowing contact. It was smart of her. She smiled at him, her lips moving, while her eyes didn’t.

“We have the situation in Australia taken care of, for the time being. We need you to go and question the hostage takers, before sending them back in. This way. The teleportation unit in the back will get you there. I’ll send you, then follow along in one minute. No one will meet you on the other side. You’re in charge of questioning.”

That didn’t make sense and probably meant that he was going to be shot first thing.

“Got it. I just…” He had no clue what to do then.

Bennet waved him along.

“Walk. Down the aisle. There will be a purple flash. Wait, on the other end.”

It was tempting to run, but he didn't, since that wasn’t the job at hand. He’d been instructed to walk, so he did. The plane was empty inside, past the four seats. It didn’t look like there was any sort of magical teleportation machine or anything, either.

A little over halfway back, the room flashed. Purple as had been said. After he glanced around, his eyes clearing, it was clear that he hadn’t been told the truth, exactly.

After all, there were other people in the room with him. Bennet had suggested otherwise. There were four of them, tied, naked, to chairs. With rope. Things that looked tighter than could be comfortable. At least the wrists and ankles looked to have white marks on the skin, under the decently bright overhead lights. The rest of the room, a large space, looked to be in shadow. The whole thing was freaking eerie.

The first thing anyone said to him was half yelled. Rudely, which seemed a bit unneeded, as far as Connor was concerned.

“I’ll fucking kill you. All of you!” That came from one of the two naked men in the middle of the large room Connor was in. From behind him, there was another flash. It was a pretty purple as well. Brighter than he would have thought when he’d gone through it.

Helpfully, the man in the chair repeated his line again, so Bennet could hear all about it.

She stayed back.

“I think not. We don’t have time for that, this evening. Connor, drain them, please.”

Moving in, he tried to do exactly that. It didn’t take long at all, even though each of them had to be done separately.

Chapter nine

The questioning was a bit more interesting this time, since the victims of Connor’s field of effect all understood they were going to die. For their god, as the case turned out to be. They were rather pale, as a group, the two women seeming to be in charge of the initial idea, even if it was the largest man who’d started with the yelling and name calling.

“Fuck you! Allah ak-” Connor had moved to touch one of the women, who was nude and unshaved, all over her body.

She also had interestingly bright hair, on her head. Uncovered, though that really could have been about the fact that whoever had put them in the large warehouse room in the first place had taken their demure headscarves or tent like outer clothing. Even at Etain they’d been taught about Islam and how it wasn’t just one thing. It wasn’t a race at all, so that these men and women had light hair and eyes wasn’t impossible at all. A lot of Muslims had that going on.

Looking at the situation, Connor had to think for a second. The yelling man was being annoying, and might make it hard to hear if he was taken out of the control of being touched. On the other hand, even he had admitted that the woman sitting on the end, Debbie, was the leader of their little terror cell.

Bennet was standing back a good way, simply watching him work. The only rule having been given so far was that all of the people needed to be left alive, so that they could be returned to the scene of the kidnapping before the police rushed in. A thing that would happen in twenty minutes, give or take. That spoke of time travel being used. Connor thought it might be that kind of thing, anyway.

Simply telling him to stop yelling would work, as long as Connor held on to the man. Fifteen seconds after he let go, the noise would begin again, however. It was, he decided, more than a little annoying.

“Are you sure we need this one alive?” Shaking his head, there was no waiting for Bennet to speak and remind him that, yes, there was indeed a real plan in place. “Fine then. Debbie why don’t you tell us all about who you work for and what you have planned?” He nearly added a thank you to the end of the sentence, having had years of being drilled on the importance of being polite to strangers.

The blue and red haired, rather well pierced and sparkling faced woman answered, of course. She was about seven feet away, but well close enough to be compelled to be truthful with him.

When the others had been addressed, each of them being touched, they’d announced that Debbie was the one in charge. Loudmouthed guy had sort of hinted that he was working directly for Allah, though did allow that the dreams he’d had may just be dreams and not special messages at all. The other guy, Kev, was just in it for the pussy, or so he’d said. Being that he wasn’t all that good looking, being scrawny and a little asymmetrical through the face, it was probably about the best plan for that.

At least both he and the other woman, Darna, had stated that they were both having sex regularly. Darna was with about half a dozen other guys in their unit as well, but the mousy blonde was doing her part with Kev, too. That was respectable enough, so Connor had just nodded on hearing the news.

Debbie looked over at Connor and locked her lips tight. It was nearly goofy looking, since the woman clearly wanted to tell him everything. She even made muffled speaking sounds, her lips going white to match her bugged out eyes. That was just surprise though.

Sighing, getting that he was going to need physical contact to push the woman into speaking openly, Connor moved to her and placed his right hand on her naked right shoulder. She was nice looking enough. Her nipples were pink, and her breasts were small and tight, being pushed up nicely by the ropes around her middle. It was enough that he wanted to sigh again, though he didn’t bother. Instead of seeming shocked at the contact, which she shouldn’t be, having seen the exact same trick with the rest of her people already, she went slack jawed. Then she started talking as soon as he asked the question again.

Ali, the loudmouth in the middle, who was actually named Thomas, or at least had been by his parents, started to try and yell again. At first. Until Deb, his erstwhile leader, began to speak the truth.

“I work for the C.I.A. My name is Eve Collins, I’m a field agent. The goal here tonight was to kill at least one hundred good Australian citizens, using the others here as patsies. The reason for it is distraction from what’s going on in the elections coming in the States. We plan to rig it, in order to put a puppet in place as President and to seed the House and Senate at the same time. Similar operations to this will be going on in seven different countries inside the next two weeks. We want to increase fear without directly threatening our own people. Not until just before the elections. That kind of terror always pushes voters to the right, which we can control for. We have the people under our control in place to run, already.”

Ali, if he wanted to be called that still, looked over at his friend, his mouth gaping widely. Bennet cleared her throat.

“Thomas, you might not want to do that, once you get into lockup. It might be taken as an invitation. In fact, I know it will be, since I’ll spread the word for you. You shouldn’t have been rude earlier. We have what we need for now, Mr. Harriman. Very well done. Our agents will return them to the appropriate position in time and space as soon as we leave.” Almost slyly, the older woman turned to him, her face being held in a smile that was a good bit creepier than anything he’d noticed from her before. “What do you think, should we allow them to kill the innocents in that night club or not?”

His hand was still on the naked C.I.A. agent’s shoulder, meaning she wasn’t going to recall anything he said. The others would however, which might just get in the way of the current plans. Plus, they hadn’t covered how Eve Collins planned to escape.

That they were on a time schedule was a thing though, so he didn’t bother finding out. Really, it probably didn't matter as much as knowing who was behind the whole thing in the first place. They even had a version of why. At least the one they were telling people at Eve’s level, which might not be the real answer. After all, she cracked instantly when captured. If that was even a remote possibility, then not telling the men and women on the ground all about the real plans would be wise.

Still, that didn't answer the older woman’s question at all.

“I don’t know enough about the situation to even guess which is the right thing to do. Do we back up the C.I.A. or not, in general?” Honestly, he didn't expect an answer to that one, and had been careful not to mention the Order by name. Just in case any of the naked four managed to survive and recall their words, later.

Instead of screaming at him to make a decision, Bennet actually laughed. It was pleasant this time.

“Really, I think we can support our friends from Christians In Action here today. I’ll let the reinsertion team know that. We’ll have to fake a bomb going off, of course. Meaning that we don’t really need all of these people alive. You were asking if we could get rid of the loud one, earlier? Go ahead. Don’t take long, though.”

Connor turned to glance at her, and shook his head.

“Beating him to death with my bare hands, while tempting, will take too long.” Before he got to the end of the words, the older lady nodded, lifted her shirt in the back, which had been tucked in, or seemed like it, and pulled a small handgun. That was placed on the floor and slid over to him, making a soft scratching sound the whole time it moved across the rather smooth concrete.

From the expression on his new boss’s face, he was supposed to whine, demure, stammer and stall, even though the man was being given to him as a present. Then, no doubt, she’d pretend his failure to kill was some kind of failed test on his part. A way to claim he wasn’t loyal enough. Instead, Connor picked it up smoothly, checked to make certain it was loaded and then aimed and fired from about five feet away from the man in the middle, just as Eve the U.S. agent came to her senses. A nice hole appeared in the center of the loud-mouthed man’s forehead. Not that he hadn’t taken to being more quiet with the announcement that Debbie, his bright haired and unshaved compatriot, was working for a foreign government.

The women both screamed, though Kev, the skinny guy with the lacking looks just shook his head.

“Well, this is fucked up. I don’t suppose you have a bullet for me, too? It’s one thing to play soldier and scare some people like we had planned in order to get a spare bit of trim. Another to murder all those people for the bloody Americans! Freaking hell.” His accent was decently nice, since most Australians had a pleasant tone, to Connor’s ear at least.

From behind him, Bennet actually made a low sound that seemed annoyed.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for that right now. Though, I could leave orders with my people to give you a chance to run before the explosion goes off? You’ll have to vanish. You could take your little girlfriend here as well, if you want? That won’t be easy, since the C.I.A. will be coming for you, isn’t that right, Eve?”

Connor wanted to shake his head, since there was no real reason to play with the people now. They had the information and a plan in place. It was his fault, of course, which would be the point, later. If he’d been more professional, then Bennet wouldn’t have tried to goad him into making a mistake by shooting Ali-Tom. Once he did it, the weapon still in his hand, the older woman had to shift gears.

Which was probably about forcing him into a mistake again, if that was the game in the first place.

He looked at Bennet and smiled.

“That’s nice of you. We’ll put that into play. For now, let’s get out of here. Eve, do us a favor and don’t go after these two? Just claim that the bodies were found in the wreckage or whatever the plan was in the first place. There’s a schedule.” His voice wasn’t firm at all, since to his mind, they could stay all day and have fun. Torturing and doing other things to would be killers was fair enough in his mind. Even just to pass whatever tests might be given was enough for him.

Bennet went still for a moment, then waved for him to follow along with her.

“Come. Good plan there. Let’s head out.”

That was done in a very similar way as before. The woman waved for him to walk ahead and even if she wasn’t at a control panel or anything, a purple flash had him back on the plane he’d started out on, instantly. Then, about a minute later, another, brighter seeming flash took place, with Bennet walking out of it.

Connor still had her handgun, which dangled down to his side. Her hands were empty however.

She gestured for him to sit, her face going still as she did it. Flat and almost reptilian.

“That was… Fine, actually. You could have gotten more information from the C.I.A. agent there. When you were ordered to take a life, you responded perfectly. I’d honestly expected you to just stand there, sweating and gasping until I had to do it for you. About eighty percent of our own recruits can’t really go in for the kill like that. I left orders to have them all killed, of course.”

There was a sinister air to the words, as if the real plan was ever going to have been about anything else.

Connor sat, still holding the gun, which was pointed toward the side of the plane, the safety on. It was a semi-automatic, though very small and not of a make that he’d used before in practice at school. The hole made in the dead man’s head had been large enough for a single shot kill, so whatever it was worked pretty well.

Across from him, his new boss took a deep, slow, breath.

“In all, I think we can give you an eighty percent on that one. You did as you were told and tried to keep us on schedule. You missed some of the opportunities there. A C.I.A. field agent has limited information, but she’s going to know who she works for, how to contact them and what the stated plans for themselves were, last they heard. For most interrogators it wouldn’t be worth getting that information, taking too long. You could have had it inside half a minute. Fix that, next time.” She moved her fingers then, as if holding a cigarette. One that didn't exist. Her fingers weren’t stained yellow and she didn't smell of smoke, though she did try to put her hand up to her lips.

Then she dropped it and waved at the gun in his hand.

“You also came on a mission unarmed. You know how to use weapons, so I expect that to be addressed as soon as possible. From now on you’ll be dropped in a room alone to get at information, as likely as not. That or people will be brought to you for it. That might mean killing them at the end, depending on the situation. At times it will mean getting rid of the bodies as well. We can’t always have a full crew ready to go.”

The older, still cute, if slightly unbalanced woman stared at him for a while. Her blue eyes a bit bloodshot at the edges.

“On the good side, you worked out that it was a C.I.A. operation when most would have missed it, trying to question people inside that time frame. You’ll need to learn a lot more about who we tend to work with and who we don’t. When in doubt, leave people alive.”

The words weren’t sweet sounding, though she didn't seem to be about to punish him for his failures, either. Most of what she was pointing out was just common sense, as soon as he heard it. It left him feeling a bit bad, realizing how much he’d missed. A lot of that was down to being used to simply taking orders. Not that he couldn’t think for himself. He’d done that when he’d gotten the instructors from school to confess to their crimes. It might not have been some kind of wonder plan, but it had been his and no one had told him to do it.

Meaning he didn't really have an excuse in the moment, not to do better when it came to questioning people.

“Sorry. I’ll make sure to do better, in the future.” He waited for the pain to shoot across his back. His words sounded weak, after all. Apologizing, even when required, had gotten that kind of thing, at Etain. To make it so you wouldn’t get used to groveling.

The woman across from him, sitting not three feet away, simply smiled then.

“Well, I shouldn’t tell you this, but you did better than most. We end up killing about half of the new people, on their first mission or the one after. Yes, there is real room for improvement, but you can do that. Now, leave the weapon on the seat and get back out to the car.” She paused then and checked her watch. “It’s… Fifteen hours after you left the Charlie location. I know it didn’t seem that long, but we were in a distorted time field the whole time, and the backlash on the far end of those things can be a killer. Again, that isn’t something to mention. Go on now. I’ll call you when we need you for something. Until then, I want you to prepare and try to work your personal project. Finding those who have been getting in our way.”

Connor moved then, leaving the gun. Hurrying to the door of the plane in case the woman was planning to shoot him from behind, for not having a weapon of his own with him. That would have been harsh training, but wasn’t outside of what he expected, for some reason.

At the bottom of the metal stairs, which were there again, since it was clear the plane was in a different, though similar location, the small blue driverless car waited for him. It was daylight out and even if there were clouds in the sky, no rain fell as of yet.

Settling behind the wheel, after the door clicked open to his touch on the metal strip near the lock, Connor moved to get his seatbelt on.

“Um… I’m Connor Harriman again. How are you doing today, vehicle?” The words felt strained, since he didn't have a real name for the car. If it had one at all.

“I’m operating inside of parameters, thank you. We should arrive at the primary outward location in fifty-two minutes. There is a small traffic delay on the freeway. Do you wish me to re-route?”

Connor had no way to know what was the best plan, so just went with the thing that felt obvious to him.

“Use your best discretion. There’s no particular hurry, as far as I know.”

“Very good. Beginning trip, now.”

They road in silence again. The trip actually took almost an hour and a half, since the minor traffic delay was a car accident that was far worse than the reports had made it sound, apparently. No one seemed to be dead, though everyone had to go around the two cars that were piled up in the far-right hand lane.

While they drove, Connor tried to think about everything. That was surprisingly hard for him to do. Not because he was stupid, just due to the fact that so much of what he’d been hearing and seeing had been simply accepted by him. Fully and without thought. It was the only way for him to survive at the moment. At least as far as he could tell. Trying to pretend to be a moral person would be the same as committing suicide. Thankfully, his training at Etain was actually good for something.

When given information, you accepted it. Now, given his powers, he knew it was the truth. His ability to just act and go on had been cultivated for years before that moment. Even things like killing had been made simpler for him. Almost every day, for close to seven years, he’d been made to stab, shoot and strangle life like dummies. Ones that bled and screamed in pain. Things that looked like men, women and children of all sorts. Some of them had been designed to seem like his class mates, even.

A few had been boys that he’d dated. The meaning of which hadn’t been lost on him at all, even at the time.

So to his mind, the man he’d killed, Ali-Thomas, was just one of the thousands that he’d done the same to already. It meant nothing to him and, he knew, wouldn’t be haunting his dreams. He didn't have those, as far as he could recall. The negative side of the whole thing was that it felt a good bit like nothing real had happened. Almost everything since he’d left school had that quality to it. Even before that, for a while.

Ever since his power had come into being his entire world had just become surreal and strange to him one day. Part of him wanted to go back to that simpler time, when he was just a normal kid. The one who was tortured at school, and had a billionaire Father he barely remembered having ever been around. Exactly the same as all the other kids in the world. At least as far as he knew.

It was daylight, which meant that the tiny blue car pulled into the loading area of a large store of some sort. His hands were on the wheel, since everyone else on the road had been doing that and he didn’t want to alert anyone that he wasn’t actually driving. Then the thing parked there, the door clicking open with a definitive clicking noise.

When the car spoke, it sounded pretty calm about the whole thing. As if it weren’t being difficult or annoying at all.

“We have six hours before nightfall. Entrance into the Charlie location is forbidden until then. Use a known entrance at that time.” Then it stopped making noise and all the lights inside shut off. To save battery life while it waited, no doubt.

It was tempting to go into the shop, but he lacked money for such things at the moment. A snack or two would have been nice, being that he’d barely been allowed or able to eat in the last several days. Not since the trip in the back of the truck. That was, of course, mainly down to his own lack of skill in cooking. There was food in the little kitchen provided to him, after all. A large load of things that he didn't know what to do about. If he’d had a camp fire he would have been better off and while it was clear the two concepts, using a stove and a pot over a fire, were similar in some fashions, he hadn’t gotten around to trying it out yet.

Not enough times to feel secure in his abilities that way, at any rate.

So, having hours to kill, he decided to fall back on his survival training. It wasn’t a wilderness situation, but he needed to know how to find his way to the alley with the little ill painted garage when darkness fell. That the whole of Charlie complex was literally underneath him as he walked out of the covered area, abandoning the little blue car, was clear. It was so large that the city above had to be resting on top of it, to a good extent.

Obviously, there was a way into the second level from there as well, or else the car wouldn’t have picked that location to park. There might even be a man access in the area, if he got lucky and could find someone else who knew how to get inside of it at the right time. Then he could simply follow along. Unless he was wrong and such a thing didn't exist at all. If the little car took off and drove across town when night fell, he’d be a bit screwed.

That meant finding the last entrance he’d used, if at all possible. At first it sounded nearly impossible. Cities were too large for him to randomly find things like that, just walking around. Especially if it looked different, during the daylight hours.

As the rain started to fall on him, because that was apparently required to happen every time he got stuck outside someplace, his feet trudging almost hopelessly, Connor realized that he was walking directly in front of the house he needed. More than that, it was confirmed when he walked around the block to the right, since the familiar alley was there again. The store was no more than a block away, which meant it was one of the places that Ephraim the asshat had mentioned that first night.

The alley was made out of gravel and potholes that were ill covered and added a run-down air to the whole thing. It was tempting to walk past it several times, just to be certain, but doing that might be a giveaway if anyone was watching. As it was, Connor was far too close for security to be happy with him. That meant walking off, down the street, counting the turns he was taking until he found first a very busy street, and across that a small but rather nicely groomed park.

Even better, there was a covered area, which he could use for temporary shelter.

The potentially useful structure was brown and rustic seeming, even if the rest of the grounds were far from reminding him of the wilderness. It took him a while to navigate across the street, since as far as he could tell, the traffic there never slowed or had large gaps in it. So, being daring and using his running skills more than was probably wise, he dashed over, walking on the grass to the covered sanctuary.

Just as the sky itself tried to open up and dump tons of water on him. At least it tried to, missing only because of the sturdy bit of wood above him. The rest of the world ignored it happening, but even if already damp, Connor felt glad for the roof that was suddenly over his head. The wooden beams and shingles providing cover from a fairly severe pelting.

It wasn’t, as it turned out, just him in need of shelter. A young woman, one who looked to be about his own age, more or less, dashed toward him, her bright red shoes flashing as she held a small back pack over her head. Laughing a bit, she looked at him as soon as she was safe from the worst of the downpour.

“Mind if I share with you?” She waved at the large structure over them, which had clearly been designed for entire families to use at the same time. Large ones, or at least several of them. Even if he didn’t know that people held picnics in city parks all that often. It was a nice enough place, so it could happen, he had to suppose.

The young lady was being polite, so he nodded. It didn’t hurt that she was attractive. Enough that he felt slightly interested in her, even if she hadn’t added anything to gain his attention just yet. She wasn’t even showing much skin, at the moment, her heavy coat preventing her figure from being seen at all. Which was probably just as well. It wasn’t as if he could date her or anything. As far as he knew, regular people didn’t understand that some people had super powers at all.

“That would be a pleasure, of course. I’m Connor. Pleased to meet you.”

The damp woman, who had red hair, which didn’t seem real, reminding him a bit of Eve the C.I.A. agent, though lacking in facial piercings for that style, smiled at him and moved closer. When she was about ten feet away, she stopped, and sat on top of a wooden picnic table. Using the bench like seat as a foot rest.

“Faith. Well, my real name is Jenifer, but that didn’t really mark me out as being special enough, so I changed it a few years ago.” She patted the table next to her, indicating it would be a fine spot for Connor to take. Even if they were both a bit damp from their prior travels.

Climbing up onto the table, he kept a respectful distance. Five feet. Not to protect his virtue, of course. Just so he wouldn’t have to explain why she kept having black outs every time they bumped into each other. Not that she’d recall it that way, as long as the amount of missing time wasn’t too great.

She looked over at him, as if he were being cute, by not trying to take advantage of her. She was attractive enough that men and boys probably tried to be close to her whenever possible, Connor didn’t doubt.

He, on the other hand, was going to have to mark himself as a freak, sitting away from her as if he feared her being diseased.

The girl, actually wringing her long hair in an attempt to get water from it, tilted her head in a move that was cute and meant to be seen that way.

“I go to Bricks, over the hill behind us. I haven’t seen you there, so that probably means you’re a sane and law abiding citizen… Where do you go?” She waited, even if it was clear she had more to say. That probably meant she was planning to base that on his reply.

For his part, he was just honest.

“I’m out of school, now. I went to Etain. That’s a private all boys school in Vermont. Until they kicked me out a few weeks back. There was a bit of a scandal at the same time. Which really had nothing to do with me.”

Blinking at him, the girl smiled.

“Wait… I heard about that. The thing where the teachers were raping all the students and then killed themselves in a suicide pact? Some kind of weird cult thing, right? You were really there? Did they…” Her lips closed, and she didn’t ask the next question at all.

Which was her fighting his field in order to be polite.

“I wasn’t raped. Thankfully. A lot of the guys there were. Most, probably. Some of them had told me about it, before I left. I’m new to the area here, obviously. Bricks… I haven’t heard of it. Is it a good school? Etain was, other than the obvious flaws to their system. At least I think I received a decent education.” He had to consider that he didn't really know enough to be able to judge that. If things were different than he’d been shown, it hadn’t come up yet.

The bright red head nodded, the pale white skin of her face made up with something that didn’t run just because it was slightly wet.

“That’s… It’s kind of the alternative school for the area. You know, where they send the bad kids after they get out of juvie? Not that I belong there. It isn’t that bad, though I was sent because I stabbed my step-father with a steak knife. Three times.” She shrugged, then looked away. “He was trying to rape me again, so I fought. He was the one that called the cops, so they took his side and said that I was lying about the abuse to get out of trouble. Which I wasn’t, not that anyone in the world believes me.” She shook her head and smiled when she turned to look at Connor.

Who did, as it turned out, believe her.

“Oh? So, you get sent off to a special school, due to that? That’s horrible.” He nearly offered to help, but didn't really know how.

Apparently, the girl he was with, Faith, didn’t expect strangers to do that kind of thing for her, either. She just shrugged.

“The worst part is that the state put me back with mom and him. She fucking dotes on him, and won’t hear anything I try to tell her about what he does to me. The police won’t either, so I end up taking it in any hole he likes four times a week and will, until I can get out of there. They aren’t paying for college, even if the prick suddenly has a lot of money that he’s been hiding from us, so I’m probably stuck for another year, you know? If he doesn’t try to kill me, so that I can’t press charges once I turn eighteen, which I’m totally doing. I looked it up. I’m having him charged and if the state won’t do it, I’ll fucking sue them.”

She didn’t seem happy about it.

Then, even Connor could see how that kind of thing might be annoying. After all, killing her first to ensure her silence really did seem like the sensible plan, given everything. It was what he would have done, in her step-father, Ephraim’s, place.

Chapter ten

Faith was no more or less chatty than anyone else that bothered to sit within five to seven feet of Connor. That meant she kept up a steady stream of truths about herself and her life over the next several hours, which informed him about pretty much everything in her world. Enough so that, even if she was fairly pretty, he really didn’t want anything to do with her on a personal level by the time she finally stood up, just as it was turning dark.

The rain had let up a long time before, but the girl had kept on going. Even as she made moves to leave, her mouth kept running in the wrong direction.

On the good side, it was all about her and not him, for once. Normally, at some point, people, especially women, started to critique his looks or imagined personality flaws. Faith had, so far, avoided that totally.

“I spend way too much time looking at my shit in the toilet, you know? As if I’m going to find something there that will tell me something. My life is like that. Just shit that needs to be flushed. I’d kill myself, except that it would give Ephraim too much help in silencing me. He needs to pay, first. I should have finished him when I had the chance. The asshole can actually fight though, for some reason. Probably because he’s selling drugs out of our garage. As if we aren’t supposed to see the twenty people coming and going each week back there? Mom pretends she doesn’t… She’s not clueless though. That bitch knows what he’s doing to me. She has for years. I told her and it… She has to hear him raping me. It isn’t like he’s silent about it. The bastard practically screams instead of grunting.”

The girl stood up, her face flushed and as she took a few steps away, it seemed to suddenly dawn on her that she’d pretty much told a complete stranger everything about herself. Including how often she picked her nose and what it tasted like when she ate the things. Also, what she thought about when she masturbated and how her sexual fantasies had shifted over the years, away from men and toward both women and animals. She was self-aware enough to understand that was down to the abuse that she’d faced, so at least there was that going on for her.

Looking perplexed, finally, after hours of spilling her guts, the red-haired girl blinked at him.

“I… Have no clue why I told you all of that. You… Don’t tell anyone, please? I’m…” She clearly realized how potentially embarrassing what she’d been going on about could be. At least if she didn’t understand how very little Connor had come to care about her as they sat under the wooden roof in the park.

Honestly, that part, his concern for her, was nearly as great as it was for anyone. He just didn't want to have sex with her in particular. Not that it had ever been on offer. A thing that was slightly odd, now that he thought about it. Normally, if anyone was around him for more than say, half an hour, the topic would turn to him and what kinds of things they were really willing to do with him.

Very often that was filled with negative things. Sometimes the words were more positive, though almost no one understood that touching him was off the table, at least as a thing they’d recall doing, later.

This girl hadn’t gone there at all. Not even to indicate she didn't want him, because he was male. Or to hint that sex with him was a concern for her in any way. Which, given she’d cataloged at least five of her favorite sexual fantasies for him, was strange. It should have been in the mix. Even if all she said on the topic was that he was too boring to bother thinking about that way.

Luckily, she’d been gross enough that he wasn’t interested in her any longer. He had been in the first hour or so, then that had faded. Given that he could get her to do anything he wanted that way, it was probably for the best, to her perspective. After all, his power, as Doc had pointed out more than once, really made his date rape potential shoot off the charts.

He could do anything he wanted, with anyone, and even if they recorded it, the whole thing would seem consensual. Even if they didn’t have a choice in the matter. Better, or worse, depending on the thought behind it, they wouldn’t recall it later.

Just like he didn’t remember his mother abusing him as a child. While that wasn’t a lovely thing to learn about, the truth was that it didn’t really bother him as more than an abstract thing, now that he’d heard about it. In that way, Bertie had been correct. For him, more than almost anyone else on the planet, it just didn't matter if he did things to people against their will that way.

It simply wouldn’t hurt them. Not as long as he made sure not to physically injure them, at any rate. Meaning that his own prohibition against that kind of thing was probably going to weaken eventually. After all, the world was his menu and Etain had been kind enough to make it nearly impossible for him to seek relief in a more normal way, like using his own hand. The very idea of doing that left him feeling ill and afraid. As if pain would shoot across his back if his hand strayed anywhere too near his crotch with the wrong intent in mind.

Given that Faith was cute enough and he was at least half aroused at the moment, it spoke about exactly how disgusted he really was with her story. Instead of finding someplace for them to be alone, or even mainly hidden, there in the park, he simply shrugged at her, not standing up.

“Don’t worry about it. You clearly needed to get some things off your chest. What you tell me is secret.” Not that he felt any obligation to her that way.

For one thing, he was pretty certain that her step father’s drug business, the one done out of the garage, wasn’t one. There had been more than enough in the girl’s tale to understand that her raping step-father was Ephraim Kelley. The man that guarded the safe house entrance Connor needed to use in about an hour. On the good side, he had a bit more information about the situation there now.

Ephraim had enough money coming in that Faith had become aware of it. Mainly because the man bought presents for his wife almost constantly. Nice things that a seemingly unemployed man wouldn’t have access to. Not without doing illegal things to get them.

The story was that he owned the house and lived off his wife’s hard work. At least from the daughter’s perspective. Except that the man made a living doing his guard duties, clearly. Even at that, Walker had put forth that the fellow simply had too much money happening in his life at the moment.

Plus, even if Connor didn’t want to have a shot at his cute daughter at the moment, the man was kind of a pig when it came to rape. A thing that he was getting away with handily, it seemed. The police were actually enforcing his right to abuse the girl, after all. Probably thanks to whatever power the Order had going on in the area. They’d gotten him left alone and put his target back inside his reach almost instantly, instead of doing whatever they should have.

Foster homes or something. Even locking the girl up in detention would be more normal, if they didn't believe her reason for stabbing the man in the first place. A thing that she’d mentioned to him, several times. Instead she’d been put back in the same house and basically had been told that if she fought or tried to run, very bad things would happen to her.

Which, from what little he knew about the secret societies, sounded exactly up their street.

The girl walked away then, looking back over her shoulder at him, smiling as she did it. Heading in the direction that he needed to go himself. Not that he was doing that until he had actual cover of darkness. It was overcast out that day and still raining a bit, so night had tried to fall early. It wasn’t enough to cover him from satellite observation yet, however. Or, it probably was, what with the cloud cover.

The rules said that you didn’t go in until it was night though. Both Ephraim and the car had mentioned that to him. Connor actually respected one of them, so decided to listen to the advice.

So, sitting there still, damp and more than a bit cold, as well as hungry, Connor waved at the girl as she walked away into the dim evening light. Then he sat there, until the world faded around him, the headlights of the passing vehicle’s all turning on. Even past that, just in case he was being observed by someone.

If that was the case, then they were going to know where he went, of course. He didn't have the ability to truly cover his tracks in the location he found himself. Really, the only thing he could do in that case, if he were being followed, would have involved simply not going back at all. Just walking away, probably to the closest forest, since he could survive there more easily than inside a city, given his skills.

Eventually he might be found by the Order. Or not.

Trying not to look around like he was being followed by government agents, because that really wouldn’t be happening as far as he knew, and no one was close enough to even watch him as he traveled the few blocks to the alley he needed, Connor simply walked to the correct gravel strip. Then he silently, or at least as quietly as he could, moved to the ill painted white garage, opened the big door and ducked under it, closing it up tight before anyone could notice him.

There was no noise from inside the house, at first, though Ephraim moved into the garage quickly enough that it was clear he had some kind of alarm rigged up on the place. Probably to notify him when the door opened. It had happened the last time as well, so it made sense that something like that was going on. Then, it appeared to be the man’s main occupation in life. Well, that guard duty and whatever else he was doing to make cash on the side.

No light was turned on, though the man seemed to understand who was there. Connor didn't call out, just trying to find the button on the top of the rounded piece of woodworking machinery. The band saw.

“Harriman?” The word hung there for a moment, sounding annoyed, as if Connor wasn’t doing the right thing. Still, the other man moved closer to him, probably trying to reach the bandsaw button, not realizing how close that would put him to what was essentially living truth serum. “No one told me that anyone was coming through here. Decide you needed to get out to the store?”

There was a temptation to lie, since the man wasn’t anyone that needed to know his life’s story that day. Instead, he simply smiled and reached out a bit, touching the man on the arm. Through his shirt sleeve, though that seemed to be enough.

The pale light through the window showed that the man had a very short beard. It was almost stubble, but managed to reach just beyond that in length, almost as if it was struggling to make itself legitimate. There was gray in the black of it, and the lines on his thin face showed in high contrast for the moment. Probably aging the man, a lot.

His mouth fell open as the contact happened.

Connor spoke in hushed tones, not needing any more than that to be heard. Also, not wanting Faith’s mother to run out and shoot him. There had been a warning about that, on their first meeting.

“Ephraim. How are you getting all the money that you’ve been spending on presents for Magda?” That was Faith’s mom’s name, a thing that had been mentioned more than a few times.

The answer came easily, since that was how Connor’s ability worked.

“I’ve been selling the list of who’s coming and going to the Alliance. Ten thousand a month for a few names. They haven’t done anything with it yet even, so I can rationalize to myself that it doesn’t matter. Not that I won’t be killed for it, if the Order finds out. Really, I know better than to do that kind of thing. We all do. Sooner or later it will fuck with the plan.” The words were whispered back. Then, people tended to respond to him in the same fashion he spoke.

“Ah. Okay, who are you in contact with, then? By name, I mean?”

“Winston Millet. He’s the Alliance rep for the city here. Um, I go to his shop, down the street, once a month. He cuts hair, so, you know, I get a trim, and pass the envelope with the names in it to him. Then he pays me, in unmarked bills.”

Connor wasn’t that great about asking all the questions that might be needed, or had at least messed that up the last time he’d been working, so tried to think of what kind of thing would be useful. The trick there was that anything might be, really.

“How many people are working with him, do you know?”

That got a pause, as the man seemed to think, his eyes not focusing at all.

“I don’t, really. I mean, there are two women that work the shop with him and I’ve seen a few other people in there fairly regularly, but they might not be with the man in the Alliance. I mean, I have Magda and Jennifer here and they don’t know anything about my work with the Order. Well, Mags knows I’m doing something, I think. Not exactly what.”

Things that both made sense and at the same time hadn’t been asked. Connor had been thinking about the girl and the mother, but hadn’t requested the information at all. Not that it meant he was developing telepathy or anything like that. Magda’s name had come up, which was probably enough to prompt the line of thought.

So he nodded and ran with it.

“You love Magda, right?”

There was a nod from the man. A dumb and slow thing that almost seemed drugged.

“Yeah. She’s everything to me.

“But you also keep raping her daughter? Why?”

That got a shrug from the man, his voice still low. A mere whisper.

“She’s got a tight ass. Magda only likes to have sex once or twice a week and I need it every day, so I use the girl. Magda’s cool with it. She’s the one that told me to do it in the first place. She even worked out a schedule for when I do the kid and when we get busy together.”

That was a bit different than Connor had figured would be the case. Faith had mentioned that her mother had to know about the abuse. That wasn’t the same as being the mastermind behind it all in the first place.

Not that Connor really cared. It wasn’t his business, in particular. The information about the Alliance and Winston Millet, however, was directly related to his new job.

“Is there anything else I need to know, in relation to the Order or anything else here?”

There was a shrug then, and the man leaned in, whispering again.

“Magda is with Ophelia. She told me that, a few years ago. I think she reports on the comings and goings here for them. I’m not certain she knows about it, though. She has alters.”

The words meant little enough to him, so he nodded at the man, just as activity came from the house.

“Open the hatchway here. Close it as soon as I get down.”

There was, if he remembered correctly, a switch at the bottom, which would do that. The thought was a good one, since orders or not, the instant he took his hand off of Ephraim’s arm, the man just froze in place. A thing that would last for almost exactly fifteen seconds.

The round knob on the wall needed to be pressed, which took a few seconds for him to work out. Still, he had the thing shut behind him before the man made any noise of note. It sounded like someone had started speaking. Probably Magda, if she was supposed to be spying on everyone like it seemed.

Not bothering with a light, even though he found the switch, Connor moved through the heavy door, down the hallway and out into the parking complex, which required travel down some stairs. He was familiar with that gray and chilly level, having used it for running. Meaning he knew how to get back to level three on his own, without asking for help. Given he didn't see anyone at all in the huge complex, even if the lights were on, that was a good thing.

It still took a few minutes to walk to the stairs he needed and then about ten more to get back to his room, after going up and down more than a few red carpeted hallways. He was still damp from his walk in the rain, and it was tempting to go back to his room directly, since there was food there, even if he didn't really know what to do with it.

Instead, sighing a bit, he stopped by his Father’s room, first.

That being the kind of thing that a good Order member would do, at least to his mind. No one had mentioned it, but putting the needs of the group over his own comfort was probably the sort of thing that the new person in the organization was supposed to think about. At least they probably needed to pretend in that direction pretty hard.

He rapped four times, then stood back, so that whoever answered the door wouldn’t be hit with a sudden compulsion to start calling out uncomfortable truths that, most likely, he didn’t really want to know about anyway. Most people tended to be concerned with the sex they were having or wanted to have, the gross things they did when alone or the crimes they were committing on a regular basis.

Connor could go for a very long time without hearing about those types of things from his father, or really, anyone else he knew.

It was the man himself who answered the door, his face brightening a bit when he saw who was there.

“Connor! I was just thinking about you. You got in all right, I see.” He glanced down at the white shirt and nodded. “You’re wet. Come in, I can get you a towel.”

That happened quickly, with the man moving deeper into the space, out of range a good bit, moments after the white fluffy bit of cloth was tossed to him. The dampness didn’t go away at all, since he was nearly dry. The thought, thinking of his comfort first thing, was nice.

The lean man turned, once he was about twenty feet away. Then he called out. It was strained but sort of normal for the life Connor Harriman had to live now.

“Is everything okay? I had word that Bennet asked you to kill a man. You did it, but… Is that why you’re here?” The man seemed to be a bit concerned that it might be, for some reason. As if he didn't know about the years of conditioning that had taken place. Or, possibly, he knew and didn't think that it had worked as well as it had. They’d talk about it already though, so it might be that last part, but couldn’t be the first.

“No. That’s fine. I just had some time, waiting for it to be dark enough to sneak into the entrance that I know about, above. I sat in a park and ended up talking to a girl I met. Faith. She’s the step-daughter of Ephraim Kelley and kept going on and on about how he’s been raping her and the police are seeming to help him do it. Walker had mentioned to me that Ephraim suddenly had more money than he should, and so did Faith, so on the way back in, I asked him about it. He’s working for something called the Alliance, selling a list of names. His contact is a man named Winston Millet, who runs a local barber shop, I think. He gets ten thousand a month for that.” Connor stopped for a second, then shrugged. “Also, Magda, his wife, seems to be with something or someone called Ophelia and might have alters. Raping the daughter was her plan, the entire time.”

The words had him stared at for a few seconds, then there was a brief nod.

“All right. Let me… We need to both report this and work out an action plan. You mentioned that Walker had pointed things out to you and that’s why you found the daughter to question?”

Connor shook his head, even if part of that was true.

“Walker mentioned it. Faith just happened to approach me in the park when the rain started. That could be happenstance or something else. She told me the truth, but… there was something really off with her. I mean, she’s cute and by the end of what she was saying I wanted nothing to do with her for sex. That isn’t normal. I mean, cute girl or boy… I pretty much want to fuck them, if I can. Even if they’re not pleasant or intelligent. I draw the line at them being too young, but that’s about it, normally. So, even if she was secretly trans or something, I should have wanted to nail her. That I didn’t is… kind of weird.”

It felt odd, saying that to his own Father. The man just seemed to take it in stride, without judgement, at least in the moment.

“I recall being seventeen, so, yes, that is a bit strange. If her mother is with Ophelia, then she probably is as well. Given that…. Well, the odds of a chance meeting in a park like that are small, don’t you think? It was probably a set up. Let me… Call this in. We’ll want to bring in some others for this.”

That, it turned out was Walker, who was in charge of things like that and Doctor Short. The reason for her being there wasn’t readily apparent, though she came through the door at the same time the large head guard did.

She spoke first, as well.

“Hey! You made it back and everything. Good. Now, what’s happening?” The last portion was addressed to the elder Harriman, who narrowed his eyes and repeated everything that his son had told him. It sounded a good bit more serious when he said it, Connor had to think.

Walker growled after the good news was finished.

“Fuck. Well, we had suspicions. Good work, finding the name on Millet like that. We need to feel him out, if we can. Otherwise he’ll probably be pulled when Ephraim vanishes. What do you want done with the wife and kid?” That, interestingly, was addressed to Connor.

As if he was the one to go to in regards to questions like that.

Doc was the one to answer.

“I’d love to get a hold of them, if it’s possible. Ophelia mind control is top notch. I mean, everyone works with alters, but they have a way of layering things that’s so sophisticated that it’s almost undetectable, even under an MRI scan. The girl probably beat your skill a bit there, Connor, using that kind of trick. Or at least her handler did. On purpose, I bet.” There was a wicked grin from the young seeming nerd girl. “I’d love to see if that would hold up if you hit her full blast and actually asked her about things directly. My bet is no.”

Walker nodded, his face flat and expressionless.

“We can pick them up tonight. Then, when that’s done…” It was clear that he knew the answer. The shifty look he gave Connor spelled that portion of things out. Even if he was standing about twenty feet away. Everyone else in the room had their back against the far wall. They weren’t really far enough away to lie easily to him. They could probably pull it off though, with a bit of work. Doc could, at least.

More, they could easily keep their mouths shut on various topics. In the moment it was probably that they all thought he was going to flake out on them. That or he’d want to save the women, not realizing that they were a threat to the whole operation, because his dick was doing the thinking for him.

A thing that was more than a bit possible, he realized. Honestly, even if he didn't want Faith in particular, the idea of having sex seemed pretty nice just about then. Not that he was going to call that out to the room.

Smiling, he nodded.

“Then we probably need to either kill them or remove them from play in some other way. After Doc has a chance to examine them, of course. Can we hold them here safely? Will people notice if they just vanish?”

The man in black smirked a bit.

“We can handle that part of things from this location. Just call in to the kid’s school and the woman’s workplace and let them know that they’re moving. The computer can do that for us. Then, even if no one can reach them, law enforcement won’t take it seriously. Ophelia can’t take us on directly and won’t be bothered too much by losing a few people. The biggest issue will be that we need to replace Kelley. Quickly, so that no one gets suspicious about people coming and going from the garage there. That will take a bit of finesse to make look right.”

The others nodded, each of them looking at Connor, as if it was a big deal that he was planning to kidnap a few women.

As if their entire plan wasn’t to kill off most of the world’s population, in the end. That meant, at least to him, that everything else was fair game. The only real trick would be making certain they didn't get caught doing whatever they were, in the meantime. Not that they couldn’t buy themselves out of most trouble, it seemed. The cops were willing enough to leave a cute young girl to be raped, with only a few lies, orders and possibly some payoffs. If that was the case, then the Order could probably get their people out of trouble for almost anything.

Which meant that, like they needed to do with the the two women in the house above them, the other groups would probably just take to grabbing people and killing them, if the need ever came up. If anyone ever had a problem with him, for instance, there would be no day in court to prove what a great guy he was. No, in that case they probably wouldn’t even talk to him. There would simply be a bullet to the head, from a good way off.

Which, if you had to go, was probably as close to a good way to do it as possible. No fear or reason to think anything. Just a sudden impact and darkness closing in. A thing that you couldn’t even think about, since your brain didn't work right any longer. He was willing to blame the chemicals in plastic, but he had to admit that the idea sounded pretty tempting just then.

Walker stood up straight, from where he’d been leaning against the far wall.

“I’ll get that done. Call it… Six hours? Or we can do this in the morning. You haven’t slept yet, have you, Connor?” The concern actually seemed real, which was a bit surprising.

The truth was that he hadn’t, but even if it was a day later, it was only just approaching time for him to sleep, instead of him being exhausted already. A thing that he wasn’t supposed to mention to anyone. Probably because there had been some form of time manipulation or travel involved and that wasn’t exactly a commonly known thing, even inside the Order.

“I can stay up for a while longer. I need a shower and food, though. Doc, do you have a few minutes?” Checking in with her seemed to be a good idea, if they wanted to crack mind control. He didn’t really have a clue how to do that sort of thing, after all.

The woman, old and young at the same time, stood up herself, from her own position holding up the wall and nodded.

“We can go back to your room and chat, Connor. Six hours, Walker?”

There was a nod, from the big man, who was almost to the door already.

“I’ll call you if anything comes up. We can just go in and do a grab or… Really, Connor, you could just walk in and see about grabbing them for us. That might be easier. We can send a team with him.”

Stephen looked upset at the words, though nodded anyway.

“Do it. I want a report as soon as we have control of the game pieces.”

Those words, it seemed, were enough to allow the rest of them to get out of the room. They headed in different directions, the girl next to him following along a respectful ten feet back as Walker jogged off, heading the other direction.

Chapter eleven

Inside his own room, which was identical to the one that his father had in floor plan and layout, Connor stopped, feeling a bit uneasy about what he wanted to ask his new friend. For her part, Doc just acted as if he might, for some odd reason, have called her there for something real. Actual Order business or something interesting that would be worth her time. At least her words reflected that, as she stood just inside the door, not five feet from him.

Meaning she was being pretty close to totally honest and probably not holding back a lot of what she wanted to say to him.

“You have something that you didn’t tell the others?” She pushed up her thick rimmed glasses with a single finger, her face so serious it nearly made him wince.

Connor shook his head though.

“Not really. I…” He felt ridiculous, in the moment, but still needed to ask her for help. “I’ve been barely eating since we’ve gotten here. I don’t know how to cook or use anything in the kitchen. I can do it over an open fire, sort of. I mean, meat and stuff? I learned how in survival training. Most of the things in the kitchen here are… You know, ingredients.”

The words got him glared at, which was honestly how the woman felt about the question. She didn't hit him though, even if her face kind of seemed like she wanted to.

“You could look that up on the computer. There are videos that will show you what to do. You might have at least claimed you wanted me for sex.”

He nodded at that, feeling more than a little horny at the moment. The hunger was worse, so it had come first, that was all.

“That one, as well. It’s a bit awkward, isn’t it? I mean…” He was willing enough to go into how he felt, or at least what he figured she needed to hear from him on the topic.

Doctor Short rolled her eyes and didn't let him.

“It shouldn’t be. We’re both adults, after all. I’ll get you something to eat and bring up lessons for cooking while you get a shower, then, after you eat, we can fuck. Or I could suck you off? I was thinking about that and it should work, if you remind me every twenty seconds or so about what I’m supposed to be doing. I think that’s the rule for your abilities. You have to remind people to act when the buffer on their short-term memory really fades. Clinically, we generally claim that’s three to seven seconds. From what I’ve noticed in reviewing your work with others, it really seems to be longer than that. It probably means that most people are lazy, when it comes to mental work. You just don’t allow for that.”

There were hand motions then, telling him to go and get cleaned up, as well as changed. It was tempting to get into real clothing again, but he picked a light shirt and some loose sleeping bottoms instead. After they did whatever they were going to, it would important for him to get at least some rest.

At least he had to figure that the next day, or even a few hours later, would go better if his head was relatively clear. It might not make a difference, but he didn’t really want to make a simple mistake because he hadn’t bothered to lay down for a few hours when he had the chance.

When he got out of the shower, shaved and squeaky clean, Doc had food on the table for him. That was in the front room, but near the kitchen. It looked to be some kind of cardboard tray with a variety of side dishes and gravy covered meat in different sections. Seeing him looking at it, the woman smirked a bit.

“I do know how to cook for real, of course. I just wanted to see how you’d react to being fed something like this. You aren’t really used to it. Regular people food… At that hell hole masquerading as a school they fed you top line stuff all the time. Most people hearing that would think it meant you were babied there.”

That was, more or less, the truth. No one was allowed to get fat there, so meals would be withheld if you tended to plump up too much and no outside food was allowed in, strictly speaking. Some of the kids had managed to smuggle things that way. It wasn’t actually punished when they did it either, he realized, in hindsight. Meaning that they’d been being trained to do that kind of thing, most likely. To sneak around and hide things from others, under the guise of getting away with something that no one had ever been punished for. In a place where they managed to know if you tried to touch yourself too much in the shower…

It suddenly didn’t seem all that likely that anyone had really gotten away with hiding their candy and booze from the instructors and staff there. Not that Connor had ever done anything like that for the most part. The other kids had gotten goodies when they went home on breaks and vacations. Connor had always been sent to different survival camps and training at those times. Coming back with a half-roasted snake had never seemed like that brilliant of a plan for him, for some reason.

The food was fine, really. A bit salty and rubbery, but he was able to smile and thank his friend for the food, without lying about it.

“This is good. I mean, not really great, but I’ve eaten worse. Recently, in fact.” That was true, since his last meal had been a can of salty, half burnt, soup. A thick paste that had reminded him of nothing that he’d ever eaten, since he didn’t read the instructions about adding water until after he’d consumed it.

That had not been a thrilling meal for him.

This one even had a bit of chopped apple with a sweet topping on it that wasn’t half bad.

“Thank you for making it for me.”

The words got a nod, then a wave.

“Just toss that and we can do some things. I should probably go and lube up, just in case the oral thing doesn’t work for you. Are you doing my ass, do you think?” She spoke the words as if that was probably just going to happen.

She couldn’t say no, and if he wanted her that way, then it would be what took place. Which made her question sensible. After all, even at Etain they’d learned in class that you needed to use lubricant with anal sex, to prevent injury and increase pleasure.

Still, that wasn’t really needed. After all, the slightly dirty and uncomfortable sex wasn’t alluring to him if she couldn’t take part in it. Her giving herself to him that completely, suffering for his pleasure, meant nothing, if she couldn’t recall it later. For that matter, he wasn’t certain that the people under his effect actually felt pain. Not while he was touching them.

So there was no real reason for him to use her that way. Not as long as she wasn’t going to get pregnant.

“No, but you might want to use it vaginally, just in case? I’m not sure about the oral, either. Though, if you get it out, we can just use that if the other thing doesn’t work? Even if I have to step back for you to use it, right?” After all, he wasn’t forcing her to do anything. Normal people didn't need to lube up every hole first, in case they were going to be used by a mindless idiot in the wrong spot.

She just nodded at him, her face moving into a grin.

“Sure. You say that now, but will you actually act on it? I don’t really need to be sore for half a week if you forget.”

Which was fair, really.

“It should be fine. After all, I want you to keep doing things with me, so it kind of pays for me to not be a jerk about it. Here, let’s…” She was still fully clothed, and even wearing her white lab coat when he moved over to her, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder. Gently.

The process of getting head from her wasn’t nearly as difficult as he’d feared, he realized. Once she was under his control, he simply looked at her pretty brown eyes for a moment, then asked her to do what was needed.

“Bertie, could you kneel down and give me a blowjob?” The words felt like they might be too complex for her to parse in that state, since others had difficulty walking that way, or had in the past. The Doctor simply did it, working the front of his soft sleeping trousers, pulling them down to get at him.

Every twenty seconds or so she’d stop and just hold in place, which was a bit annoying, until he basically started chanting at her to keep going. That worked, without new instructions being given constantly.

Then, at the end, she had to be told to swallow, which was new for him. Again, she did it without hesitation or complaint, and it was appropriate for what they were doing, instead of her just performing the one action. In that she backed off, caught his seed with the front of her mouth and then handled things from there. It was a subtle, but complex thing.

When he stood back, still hard, Connor tucked himself back into his pants before she came back to herself. She did that smoothly, blinked and then smacked her lips.

“So the oral sex worked? At least my mouth tastes right for that. My ass doesn’t hurt either, so…”

He reported the whole thing to her, going over what had happened.

“It was better than I’d thought it would be. I did have to talk more than I like, to keep you going. That wasn’t too bad though. I kind of figured it would be, you know, suggesting suction levels constantly and reminding you to breathe. This was more like me asking for head and you doing it. Like you might for any other guy?”

The conversation felt a bit awkward on his end, though she seemed to be mildly impressed by the information.

“Really? That’s actually interesting. We need to test that. Next time you want to get off we should find someone unsuspecting and see if that makes a difference. How much does skill play into it and all that? We should get things recorded as well. That way I can review things later. Use it for masturbation material and all that.” The words were honest, since she wasn’t that far away. Not that Connor loved hearing them all.

He shook his head then, actually.

“I’m not certain about doing things with people without having their permission first. Is that ethical?”

The woman gave him a look that seemed to scream about him being a moron, but her words were almost sweet sounding.

“You move right around that, don’t you? If you ask someone to perform for you, or even to say yes to sex and they do, then you can’t be held to any sort of legal standard. Morally, well, I understand the idea of there being gray areas. The truth is that you probably need to be a lot more ruthless than you have been, that way. Even regular men your age would be ordering most women they meet to their knees for attention if they had your powers. You were trained not to care about what others feel at all. That seems to be holding when it comes to murder. Why would sex be different for you?” She seemed to actually be asking him.

The strange thing was, he kind of knew the answer. It took him a bit to put it all together, but when he did, it was fairly clear as to what he was thinking.

“At Etain we were taught to be ruthless and I, at least, was taught to kill without remorse. Really, I don’t feel bad about anything. Not that I notice. With sex, we were punished for certain things, like self-abuse, while sort of led to the idea that using other people for sex was fine. As long as you didn't get caught. Only, at the time, for me, that pretty much meant getting permission and not asking anyone too young. So now it feels important to me to play by those rules.”

The words got him regarded baldly for a bit, then grinned at.

“Okay. Well, if it makes you feel better, ask first and get permission? There’s no harm in it and if you ever end up being recorded, it will make it seem like the other person had a choice in the matter. You need to harden up though, if you’re going to run with the Order. We aren’t the worst that way, but the only reason you weren’t raped in an orgy on your first day is because no one could figure out how to do it. Eventually they’ll work out that they could use rape bots and your butt will be on fire. If you don’t use those around you, at least on occasion, you’ll stand out. You do not want to stand out around here. Not that way. It’s even worse with some of the other groups, if that ever comes up. So, you know, be careful.”

Feeling a bit chastised, he looked down then nodded.

“Okay. I’ll make sure to do that, if I can. Anyway, I should get some rest. Are you staying here?”

That probably wouldn’t work very well, them sleeping in the same bed. A thing that the Doctor would know. Still, she smiled at him, like he was being sweet, rather than a moron.

“Not tonight. I have some things to get to still, before I lay down. Mainly a return bio-package for our friends from the other week. They sent a message. I have a reply for them. One that I doubt they’ll survive, unless they’re a lot more clever than I think they are. Monkey pox. With a bit of genetic tinkering to make it about fifteen times more lethal to human beings than it currently is. Really, it should kill almost everyone on the planet, if we can get it spread around enough. Not you and me, of course. We’ll live. Thanks to the viral hive that we both have.”

Connor recalled the shot that he’d gotten for pretty much everything. Looking around, figuring that everything they said or did would be seen by whoever was thwarting them all the time, he shrugged. He couldn’t lean in and whisper into her ear or anything, after all.

Still, he could speak softly, from a distance.

“Why not just do it? You and I. No one else. I don’t know if that would get around whoever is stopping things… If you just have it sitting in your superior refrigeration device…” It was probably a stupid plan.

One that got his girlfriend, if she could be called that, to smile at him and then, almost covertly, nod and step back. Then she spoke just a tad more loudly. For whoever was monitoring them.

“I’ll see you in the morning? Or sooner, if need be. Probably not though. Get some rest, if you can. Talk to you later, Sweetie.”

It was hard not to smile at the term of endearment being used.

“Later, Honey.”

She left then, with no more confirmation of a plan being in the works than that. A small, partial nod. Clearly thinking the same thing he was. Instead of perusing it, he laid down on the bed, managing to doze in the dark, until a pounding came on his room door. He stumbled up, his feet barely working as he walked. When he opened the thing, he saw that Walker and three other men were there, all dressed in black clothing. It was different this time however and not suits with ties and white shirts like they normally had on.

Now they were in leather jackets and sweatshirts, with black jeans. Matching outfits, as if they all belonged to the same club.

Connor nodded, getting the basic plan, just from their wardrobe choices. They were clearly all going to become sea farers, so needed to bundle up in the right kind of outfit.

“I need to change too. Call it… Five minutes?”

That got a nod from the man in charge. When Connor stepped out, less than three minutes later, he was in tan slacks, a white shirt and this time, a zipper front blue hoodie. That and running shoes were the best he could do toward seeming normal, for the time being. His closet didn't have any blue jeans in it at the moment. The contents had shifted around though, meaning that the computer system that ran the place was actively engaged with him, even if he didn’t have the right kinds of food to keep him alive.

Those being things in simple packages that he could simply open and eat. MREs would work for that, he had to think. That or he could actually look at what Bertie had brought up on his computer, in case it was those cooking lessons she’d mentioned earlier.

Walker just started moving, his hand coming out with a holstered weapon in it. That was given over to Connor directly.

“You know how to use this. If you have to shoot, pick up the brass and take it with you when you leave. It isn’t silenced so avoid doing that. The police in the area are on the payroll, but they still have to check out shootings.”

He understood that part of things, even if it hadn’t been in his training all that much. Plus, it was just tidier than leaving things all over the place, which had to leave a person feeling better than being messy did.

“Understood. What’s the plan? We can go and knock on the front door. Even if it is way too late, or early, to be doing that kind of thing. Mr. Kelley mentioned that. If we have to come during daylight hours, go to the front door and knock. Otherwise his wife might start out by shooting. Then we collect people. I can stun them and someone else can…” He didn't know what they had toward that end. Breaking their arms and legs might work, in a pinch.

One of the other men pulled some plastic strips out of his pocket then. They were solid black and heavy looking. Things that Connor had been taught several ways to get out of, in case he was ever kidnapped.

“Riot cuffs. We can subdue them easily enough, using the current plan. Then just walk them down into the garage. You’ll go in first, with me right behind you. Walker and George will hold back, in case anyone gets clever and tries to run. If shooting starts, get down first, take cover, then fire back. We don’t have vests on, since that would be a bit too obvious. Especially if any police see us on the street.”

It was, as he’d suspected, very early. There was daylight, meaning that it was at least seven or eight, given the time of year. They all exited the underground safe house area through the ill painted and cared for white garage, which meant that his new buddy for the day, Barry, and Connor both got the honor of walking around the entire block, or more exactly half of it, in order to get to the front door. There was, interestingly enough, lights on in the window as he headed up the poorly painted cement walkway. That was a slate blue color which was peeling and looking like it had been a rust red underneath that at some point in the far-off past.

In short, the whole thing looked incredibly poor, even for the neighborhood they were in. The yellow house next to them looked well cared for and the white with red trim on the other side was actually covered in some kind of siding that looked way better. Really, the whole thing stood out as an eyesore, compared to the places around it, which wasn’t the best way to hide the secret compound entrance.

The lawn had been mowed recently though, and the rose bushes in the front had been trimmed fairly well. Enough so that they seemed like they belonged there, instead of having just been put in as an afterthought or by accident. Almost as if someone that lived there actually cared about them. Not the rest of the house, but the plants at least.

Since there was movement inside, even at that early of an hour, they simply walked up and knocked. Gently. After all, it would be rude to storm the front of the place that early in a noisy fashion. Connor had to do it twice, before anyone noticed him. When the dingy front door opened a rather attractive woman stood there. Her hair was brown, but lustrous and while a tiny bit plump at the edges, compared to her daughter, the woman managed to turn that into some rather sweet curves. She was good looking enough that he could see what Ephraim saw in her at least. Not that personality didn’t count. Then, from the sound of it, the woman had several of those, which might be an additional selling point.

She even smiled at him and Barry, rather prettily, given the time of day.

“Hello?”

Sticking his hand out to shake, Connor smiled back.

“Hello! I’m Connor. A friend of Faith’s? Is she around? I know it’s early, but I sort of promised I’d come over today and I might be busy later. I’m really sorry about that. This is too early to visit…” He pretended to wince, even if he didn’t feel anything about the situation at all, other than slightly worried about gun play.

As the soft, warm, hand touched his palm and the woman went slack jawed, Ephraim came into the room. Looking pissed, but not packing anything more lethal than a piece of toast.

Not giving him a chance to process anything, Connor moved forward, left hand out, still holding Magda by the hand. She tried to not move while he did that, being a zombie like she was at the moment. The man, who looked worse in daylight than he had before, not better, tried to pull back. It simply didn't happen in time. That meant, secret badass or not, the man was just as stuck as his wife. Simply standing there, unmoving on contact.

Barry just snorted a bit.

“Damn. I mean, I’d heard, but this is… Incredible. Let me get the cuffs on them. How do you want to do that?”

The easiest way was just to hold a single finger on a shoulder while instructing each of them to help the nice man lock them up. It went fast enough that they were totally subdued before Faith came out. Wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, along with giant monster feet slippers. Those were fuzzy and seemed to be covered with fur, having felt talons on the toes. Connor had never seen anything like the big gray things before, so smiled at the girl instantly. They made her seem adorable at the moment, he had to admit.

That, his being there with a giant smile on his face got a confused look back, though it turned into a grin after a second. Even with both of her parents being held in place, a hand on one shoulder for each.

“Faith! I hope you don’t mind me showing up like this? I was thinking we could do lunch, later. Or, maybe… What’s the one that’s in between breakfast and lunch?”

The girl, her bright red hair held back in a ponytail, looked surprised then. Mainly because her parents were standing there seeming drugged.

“Brunch? That… What’s going on here?”

Barry had the others secured, though Connor didn’t let go of them. Thoughts of Ali-Tom came to mind, with his loud yelling and insulting words. It was easy enough for him to make nice and keep things calm without that kind of thing going on, at least so far, so he decided to run with it. Faith was the easier one to control with words, after all. Simple contact would be enough for her as well, he had to think.

“I’ll explain in a second, if that’s all right. For now, you need to come with us. Um…” It seemed strange, but standing there, each hand busy, Connor couldn’t think of any way to get into contact with the girl, in order to subdue her. So, gently, he reached out with a foot and kicked her in the shin. Gently, since he wasn’t trying to break her leg, just tap her with a shoe.

It worked, even if the contact didn’t last long.

The trick was to link arms with her mother, who was cuter than she was, if only by a bit, and to use that hand to take her arm, once she stopped moving. Then it was just a replay of the handcuff game, and a very awkward shuffle out the back door of the house, heading into the garage.

Barry tapped at his wrist and spoke as they navigated the white back door. It looked bad, but the hinges were very well oiled. Probably so that people could come and go without alerting the whole household each time.

“We have the packages. We’re exiting from the rear, now. ETA, seventeen seconds.” That guess as to when they were going to get there actually proved to be pretty accurate. At least if they were counting it as them going into the garage, moving in a small four-person zombie cluster as they were.

Well, three zombies with a rather annoyed Harriman center. Connor liked the imagery on that one, at least until they were in the garage, where Walker and George were waiting for them. Barry floated back, letting Connor take care of the awkward movement. A thing that had Walker nodding, when he saw the whole mess.

The guard boss looked at the group, hard at first, then coughed.

“Good. We need to get them underground, then we can handle this normally. As soon as we get to level two, I want you to pull back, Harriman. George you’re on the mother. Barry, take the girl. I’ll handle Ephraim.” The words were both blank and slightly violent sounding, as if the goal was going to be to simply execute them all, instantly.

Which was stupid. They needed to ask some questions first, if nothing else.

Connor nodded though.

“Try to leave them alive, until we’re done with them, if possible. If not…” The truth was, he didn’t know what to say, if that was the case.

Walker did.

“If not, then you grab the mother and we ice the other two. She’s more important, information wise. Not that it should be at issue. We know that Ephraim isn’t a super soldier. The girl and the mom might well be. Keep that in mind, if things go sideways.”

He didn’t really think it would be a problem, but as soon as they worked their way down the stairs, very slowly, and into the parking lot of the underground complex and Connor backed away, there was actually trouble. Mainly in that Ephraim and Magda both started yelling and trying to fight. It didn’t work too well, since both were just punched in the back of the head several times by large, rather fit, men.

That took them down while Faith, rather helpfully, said something approaching, “Gah!”.

As responses went, that one didn’t require being knocked out and which had to lead to a better day than the alternatives. She was scared though, so Connor lied, that being a skill of his that no one else there had at the moment.

“Faith… This is a secret government facility. A safe house. Your Step-father’s job was to watch that for us. When you told me yesterday that he was raping you, I managed to get some bio-readings from you that proved you weren’t lying, so we came to take him in. Abusing his power like that isn’t something that the higher ups here are willing to allow.” He glanced at the mother, who was starting to stir and shook his head. “I don’t know how to break this to you, but your mother is a spy. That’s why you have those cuffs on. No one thinks that you’re doing anything wrong, not on purpose. We have to do it anyway. Protocol. Here, let’s get to someplace more comfortable.”

The words, while obvious bullshit to him and to the men with him, didn’t get commented on. He was standing far enough away that no one was being forced to speak. When he waved the two tough looking men, Walker and George, away, they actually went, allowing Connor to take both the older people by the arms.

“Stand up. Carefully. You should both apologize to Faith here. Now.”

He didn’t really expect that to happen. At least he’d never told anyone to say anything like that while under his control. It wasn’t a question or, as far as he knew, a thing that either of them were capable of even thinking of as real or true. They both still said the words, if softly.

“Sorry, Jenifer.” That was from the Mother, who seemed to feel it, in the moment. “I shouldn’t have told him to rape you like that. I needed a way to control him, that was all. It wasn’t personal.”

The words had the younger girl looking aghast, as they walked, slowly, over to the stairwell. Connor had to give directions to the pair of prisoners and while the man had mumbled that he was sorry, he didn’t say for what.

It was enough to get the girl to walk with them, Barry hardly having to touch her at all. When the guard spoke to her, his voice was matter of fact and polite at the same time.

“We’ll need to keep your parents under control for a bit, I’m afraid. You as well. There’s a small chance that you might have mental programing that you don’t know about, so you might need to be put in a cell. We’ll get you cleared as soon as possible.” The words were lies, but the rest of the group had floated over thirty feet back, away from Connor.

That meant they could do things like that. There were no protestations of innocence or begging that she not be hurt from Faith, who wisely decided to keep her trap shut for the time being. Even if it finally seemed like the government was on her side, instead of backing the rapists.

Which was wrong on all counts. It really was easier to walk without touching a third person, so Connor went with it.

They needed to get down to the fourth level again, with each of the parents and the girl getting their own personal, rather cozy, cell. The only difference was that Faith was allowed to have her hands free and Walker cleared his throat at her door, before it was closed on her.

“We’ll leave the lights on for you. Would you like anything? A soda or something for breakfast? The food here is decent enough.”

The girl, still wearing giant monster feet and pajama pants took a very deep breath.

“I… Sure? Some coffee would be great, if that’s a thing? I’m… Not really certain what’s going on here.”

Connor, standing well back, let himself seem friendly.

“We’ll explain as soon as we possibly can. Right now, we need to get some people in, to clear you, if possible. After that, we can find out what your parents know.” Before they killed them.

At least that seemed to be the plan for the day. A thing that, he didn't doubt, Faith wasn’t going to survive.

For half a moment he nearly felt bad for her. Then, because he was him, he simply stopped that and moved away. There were things to get done, after all.

Chapter twelve

The questioning was more interesting this time, since it turned out that Connor was more than effective enough, power wise, to question alternate personalities on demand. Even with tricks in place to try and thwart his abilities. That meant they didn't have a ten-hour ordeal on their hands when it came to getting the needed data from Magda, or her daughter.

Who, interestingly enough, wasn’t actually in on anything at the moment.

Faith was seriously warped and had been broken nearly a decade and a half before as a tiny child, but she wasn’t working against the Order at the moment. She was just waiting to be used, roughly put in place to keep Ephraim happy and under control, with a spot of rape that Magda had set into motion for him. The man was kinky and liked for her to struggle and moan realistically. Otherwise they could have simply ordered the girl to have sex with the creepy man and she’d have even believed it was her own decision.

A thing that the rather evil Mom understood rather clearly.

For her part, when Doc was nearly finished with her, all of the alters coming out on command to answer the questions he asked, Bertie grinned.

“Ask her if she wants to give you head. I want to get a record of how she manages that kind of thing under our control.” There was a smirk, since she had to understand that Connor was far from certain about the idea that compelled choice was one.

Then again, he wasn’t certain that it was important any longer. It felt like some people didn’t really have the capacity for free will. Magda and Jennifer for instance. Telling one of them to do something they couldn’t resist was just… The only thing that they had left inside of them. It didn’t make it right. He also wasn’t really being given a choice, himself. Saying no or refusing could make him seem weak.

So he said the words. The Mother was attractive enough and even if he hadn’t been left totally lonely, it had been more than long enough since the last time he’d done anything that the idea wasn’t without a certain allure. At least if she said yes.

For his part, he was careful not to make it an order. That would, at least technically, make it legal. If anyone in the world cared.

“Magda, do you want to give me a blowjob? Just for fun. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

The woman, being touched on the shoulder, didn’t even blink at the question. There was a slow nod, as she sunk to her knees. Facing him.

“Sure. You’re cute.” Then she froze in place. Agreeing, but not at all taking over and doing what Bertie had the night before.

It wasn’t as if the woman didn’t know how to get the job done. To get her to use her mouth and move properly took ten times the orders on his part this time, pretty much making it not worth doing. It was a frustrating thing that did almost nothing for him, in the end. He finally had to order her to simply suck while he did all the work, using her face rather forcefully.

Then the woman nearly choked when he finished up, even when he ordered her to swallow. There was no way the lady didn’t know how to get that done or minded doing it, so it was simply that the order was too subtle and complex than she could manage while being under his control.

Doctor Short laughed at it, then shook her head.

“Did I do that? It’s a bit different than it sounded like, if so.”

“Nope. You were… Normal. This was… I don’t know why it was different. Even if you’re just that much smarter than she is… maybe it’s something to do with how she was brainwashed?”

That got a shrug from the lab coat wearing girl. Almost as if posing for him, she pushed her glasses up and held the move, looking at him from the side of her eye.

“Or maybe I’m just that good? That’s right, I still got it…” She started to dance a bit, pumping her arms in a way that was clearly meant to look ridiculous. Goofy and nerdy, but as a show for him. When she stopped there was a chuckle, since she clearly knew what she was doing. “It could also simply be down to the fact that I’ve had a hundred and twenty years more practice at everything than she has? We should have you try it with Faith and maybe Ephraim as well, for the contrast. Except… we don’t really have any reason to keep them around any longer. We’ve drained all the needed information from them. Unless you want to keep them as pets, it’s better to just get rid of them.”

Connor kind of understood that part. Magda and Faith both had alters that possessed high level fighting skills as well as super human strength and speed. Sure, using that kind of thing would destroy their bodies if they used them too much, but they could suddenly pull out enough to escape, if given a chance. Things that normal people wouldn’t be willing to do or able to, in general.

What they weren’t, of course, was bulletproof.

“Call that in, please, Doctor? We’ll be killing them, directly.” Connor tried to make it seem like he was being adult and in charge, or at least polite and formal. The truth was that he felt more than a bit awkward, having been serviced by the warped and mentally deranged woman. The one he was touching on the shoulder, his trousers still undone.

That part was due to Bertie being right there, watching him the whole time. She hadn’t seemed sexually interested in the goings on, either. It was just creepy, to be honest about it. There was staring and the large clunky cell phone thing, that seemed like it was from a movie that was set a hundred years in the past, yet still had superior science, was pulled. Then, interestingly, his Father was called.

“Harriman here.”

“Stephen, Connor and I have finished getting the information from our prisoners. We can use them as test subjects or dispose of them, if you want? Connor is suggesting death.” The question was leading, though the man on the phone simply grunted after a few moments.

“Kill them. Make certain to use high level protocols on the disposal. We don’t need this coming back on us later.”

Bertie smiled at the words, tapping one of the few buttons, making it click as it turned off.

“There we go. Let’s do Mommy here first. Unless you want to kill them in front of each other for style points?” She spoke the words as if that were a real thing.

Connor shook his head.

“No. That might trigger one of them. We probably wouldn’t live through that kind of thing, so let’s not push our luck. Where do we take them?”

That was down on the fifth level, which wasn’t at all empty, but held things like large vats of acid and other chemicals that would allow for the total destruction of corpses.

Still holding the handgun that Walker had gotten for him, the holster over his appendix on the left side in the front, Connor drew and killed a subdued Magda without waiting, once they had her in place over the tub that would soon be filled with acid. Her head splattered, but out the back, away from him, leaving no blood on him at all.

Doc looked at the mess, then shrugged.

“You really are cold, aren’t you? That, getting head from her, then murdering her not twenty minutes later… It doesn’t impact you at all, does it?”

He had to think about that one and finally shrugged.

“I’m still a bit uneasy about the sex stuff first. I mean, I asked if she wanted to, and I guess she could have said no, if that was how she really felt. That… can anyone really tell me no? Does it matter? Is it really rape if the only choice that matters is mine? I just don’t know. It doesn’t really bother me though, except that I feel like I’m going to be punished, if I get it wrong. As for the killing… Not really. I mean, I was trained for this, for so long that I can’t see this as different than the exercises I used to do.” In that once pretty Magda, now that she was dead, lying in the glass tub, bleeding and with her brain dripping out in a white and red mess, simply didn’t seem like more than a life like dummy.

A thing that had never been real to him at all.

There was a hint of judgement from the woman next to him. A thing that had to be what she really felt, even if the lady didn't say anything about it. Her words stayed locked inside, along with what she was really thinking about him. On the great side, Connor didn’t really care.

She was friendly enough with him and it was useful of her to be willing to have sex with him on occasion. That didn't mean he loved her. That capacity, he was starting to suspect, had been taken from him at Etain. The more he spent time with anyone who was trying to be kind or flirtatious, the less interested in them he was going to become.

He got Ephraim next, using the same tub, since it was big enough for two bodies. Really, the huge thing was about the size of a hot tub, meaning he could have placed Faith in the same one, with her abusers. Connor just shot the traitor who had been selling them out in the head and pushed his lifeless body in.

“Let’s take care of this first. Then flush the system and set it up for Faith separately.”

He was going to explain, except that Doc simply nodded.

“So we don’t keep the bodies around for too long in an identifiable state. That’s smart.” She tapped a button, allowing a thick flood of greenish liquid to pour, carefully, into the glass tub. The bodies inside didn’t vanish instantly. There were no bubbles either. Instead the man and woman just sort of spread out after a few moments, and began to blur as they dissolved.

He stood there the whole time, and watched, twenty minutes later, when the system was purged, the colors that still looked a bit like people spread as the liquid moved into the drain. Swirling and turning into a pink murk as they vanished down the drain. It was gross and interesting at the same time. When the secondary tank held the acid and remains of the bodies, Doc tapped a red button.

“This will irradiate the remains, purging and denaturing the end product. Once that’s done, no one in the world will be able to identify what comes out as human remains at all. We can just put it in the ground. It will eventually be absorbed into the ground water, in a few hundred years. We’re deep, but the sump for this will put them in a rocky area, on the edge of the complex here.”

That took a few minutes, or at least the red light that came on indicated something was going on for that long.

After that, Bertie shrugged.

“Are you keeping the girl? Faith… Even if you just wanted a pet, no one would blame you. We could cut her arms and legs off, pull the teeth and all that? Then you can use each hole and there’s no danger of escape, even if she goes all super-soldier on you at some point. The Order doesn’t normally do that kind of thing, but some of the different groups have, in the past. Human sex dolls like that.”

She’d said similar things in the past, so Connor looked at her, his head tilting.

“You’ve been in other groups?” There had been hints of that, in the past.

She waved that away, or tried to. Her mouth moved, since she was standing about twelve feet from him. That meant she was being honest enough when she spoke. At least, she should have been.

“I’ve been in a lot of them, actually. I tend to move around every five to ten years, depending on what I’m working on at the time. That means I have some contacts and connections in various organizations. It also means that I’m lower in the ranks in the Order than I should be. Not everyone is allowed to just move around like that, but… I’m old and frankly, too valuable for anyone to just get rid of.” She waved again and then stopped talking.

He nearly asked a follow up question, since what she’d said didn't scan at all. The secret societies seemed to be insulated and kind of adversarial in general. It didn’t make any sense that she’d be allowed to just hop from one organization to another. That probably meant something else was going on. A thing that, even he, with his limited information, understood meant something big.

She moved away, suddenly enough to seem to be purposeful, not speaking until she was nearly thirty feet from him. The whole thing felt phony though. Like she was play acting a need to get away from him. It was her expression that gave it away. Before she got far enough back, she attempted to seem scared, but it came across as being slightly angry, instead.

“Ah. There are some things I’m not allowed to talk about. Anyway, we can keep the girl, if you want? Letting her go… Well, that won’t work. She has programming that will just cause her to run back to Ophelia if we do that. That would let them know that we were responsible for making Magda vanish. What do you want to do?”

The words were stressed oddly, as if she was trying to drive him to something that he normally wouldn’t do. Really, it felt like she wanted him to keep Faith alive and there, for some reason. Only, that didn't make sense. Even if she wanted out of having to have sex with him, which he could see happening, the girl was probably the worst sex slave possible for him to keep. She could only create problems for them, in the long run. Plus, he still didn’t want to bang her. The Mother had been more alluring that way, which was just as bad of an idea, due to the threat she’d potentially posed for them all.

“I’ll go get her.”

That part should have been sad, but really wasn’t. Connor just went to the fourth level, opened her door and smiled.

“Hey! You’re being let go. We have a place for you, until you can go off to college next year. Some cash and new identity papers. That information will have to be memorized, of course. Once you take on a new identity you have to live it, totally. This way. I have some things to show you, first. Then we need to get you some real clothing. We can get that from your house, if you want.” He tried to sound happy about it all. As if it were not just real, but a good thing.

The girl, her bright red hair still held back, looking cute with her giant monster feet slippers, did what he’d suggested and moved toward him. Trusting him, as if that made any sense.

“What about Ephraim and Mom?”

He shrugged, waiting for her to get close enough to touch.

“They won’t be back. Moved into a secure facility that… Honestly, I don’t know where they are, exactly. I hear it isn’t that nice. They’ll live though and won’t be abused. Not unless we put in special orders for that? We can, if you want… Say… Have Ephraim visited a few times a week by by a large man who doesn’t care if he says yes or not? There’s a certain symmetry to that, if you want it done. Who know, maybe it would help him learn something?”

The girl didn’t stop, though she did nod as he reached out to take her hand.

Then he sighed. She was a zombie, for the time being, after all. Uninteresting and not even a good slave. She’d follow exacting orders, but that was all. It wasn’t enough for him in life. If she’d been different, not a danger due to her brainwashing, then he might have done what Bertie seemed to want and kept her alive, even given that. After all, what he had going on with Doc could possibly work out, after a fashion. A casual relationship that wasn’t that close, most of the time, with sex thrown in whenever he wanted. It wouldn’t be that good with the girl, he didn’t think. Her Mother hadn’t been as good as Bertie and frankly, he’d had better head at school than that even, before his powers had kicked in.

“Walk with me. Follow.” He had to keep saying it, talking to her the whole time they marched through the complex to the stairs. She moved down those smoothly enough, though he had to remind her of what to do the whole time.

By the time he was leading her to the acid room, he felt a bit like George at the end of Of Mice and Men. Doc was still in the room, watching him as he arranged the girl, looking into her blue eyes as he pulled the gun and shot her in the head.

“Tell me about the rabbits.” He muttered the words, which oddly enough got a nod from his pal.

“No doubt. Still, it’s kinder this way than if she’d been brought in kicking and screaming to see her parents in the tub. I… Sort of thought you might keep her, or try to. She’s cute and you are a teen boy, last I heard. It isn’t like anyone would mind.”

The words were, clearly, designed to leave him feeling bad about his sensible decision. The question he had, the one he didn't speak about, was why Doc Short would try to undermine him, given what needed to be done for the Order. If she’d wanted Faith left alive for certain, she could have simply said so. Even making up something about wanting an experimental subject would have worked. There had to be something the girl would have been useful for.

Really, she could have ordered or asked him to do it, if that had been her plan. Instead, she kept moving back, out of range, then suggesting things in a way that seemed pointed and rather annoying.

A clear manipulation, even if he didn't understand her real point. Shaking his head, he tried to seem blank, even if a picture was starting to form that he didn't really like.

“That would be too dangerous. We can’t have liabilities like that sitting around. If you don’t want to have sex with me, that’s fine, though. I know you can’t be getting much out of it.” Part of him actually meant it.

The rest was, suddenly, not feeling that trusting of the woman. Only the fact that she was going to have problems lying to him let him feel easier about it all. He moved toward her, stopping at about five feet away. A thing that should have left her feeling both chatty and unable to be less than perfectly truthful with him.

Which got her to nod. He could see the wheels in her head working, figuring out what she needed to be acting like in the moment. It was almost like math being done out loud, right in front of him.

“That’s no big deal. I’m just worried that you don’t have anyone your own age around. In a real way you’re being isolated from everyone in the world. That’s going to mess with your well-being eventually. The sex part is fine between us, really. It’s even fun, in a way. Not that I remember it, later.”

Connor, nearly yelled at her at that moment.

She seemed totally sincere, except that… The words didn’t make sense. She was lying to him. He could feel it. Not just by omission, either. Except, of course, that couldn’t be the case.

Rather than let on that he understood what was happening, he simply smiled. After all, it might be that his powers had faded or gone away. Except that they hadn’t. Faith and her parents had stood there blankly and let him blow their brains out. If there had been anything near weakening going on, they wouldn’t have been able to do that kind of thing at all. They would have fought, possibly with lethal consequences for him. Teo of them at least were known super soldiers. At least their alternate personalities had that going on. That meant it was just Bertie who was resistant to him.

So, he shrugged.

“Later tonight? We can get together and… I don’t know, watch a movie or something?” If she was supposed to be concerned about his mental wellbeing, that kind of thing, just spending time with him, might be reasonable.

She shook her head.

“I can’t. I’m scheduled to head over to London later. Teleporting. You aren’t supposed to know about that, so don’t tell anyone.”

He nodded, since that part at least was what he’d been told about before.

“Agreed. Well, when you get back, then? We can try some of that anal that you don’t want.” He sounded nearly needy. Which wasn’t his point.

Connor just wanted to know how long she was going to be gone. A plan occurred to him, since it was kind of clear that something was very wrong with the Doc. The one person that he’d thought might be a confederate as far as making certain things got done to save the world. There had been for a while, now that he thought about it. How animated she was during sex, for instance.

How his powers had only flared once, right after she’d given him a specific shot. Or, rather had him give himself. Before that point, the woman had seemed to react identically to everyone else in regards to his powers. After that, almost instantly, little things had come into being. Small differences. It might be his imagination, of course.

Only, it wasn’t.

It didn’t take a super genius to work out that an ancient woman who was known to be involved in dozens of secret societies over the years, who was involved intimately with a lot of the plans that had failed over the years might just be part of causing that to happen.

Bertie smiled up at him, looking geeky enough that he understood it to be an act. A thing that he hadn’t really managed to understand before that point. Not on a deep level.

“I should be back in three weeks, give or take. I… Have that thing we talked about ready. The…” She leaned in a bit, even if there was no way they weren’t being watched by the security system. “The monkey pox? It’s in my fridge. We can get that into play as soon as I get back. We need some way to spread it. Think of a vector that way. A way to disperse it that no one is ready for.”

He had an idea as to what to do, so nodded.

“Are we really immune to it? I took that shot, but this is new.” If it had been about making her immune to him, by some means he didn't understand, then that part could have been a lie. Except that she’d told him about it when standing too close to him to lie, before that. He thought.

The small woman blinked at him, several times, as if shocked by the idea of getting her hands dirty.

“Yes. The viral hive will fight off almost anything that comes at us. At least until it fails, which will be in about twenty years. So this won’t touch either of us. You want us to take it in ourselves? How? Just get on a plane or bus? It won’t be airborne if we aren’t sick with it, so we’d have to do something else. Spray bottles or a misting system…”

That was, more or less his plan that way. A thing that wouldn’t work if she was actively working against getting anything done. Still, the best way to preserve her current cover would be for the disease to be real, so that a few people got sick to start with. Then, almost magically, like had happened before, the whole thing would just stop working. It meant that he couldn’t use what she provided to him for it. That was doomed to failure. At least not for the whole thing. If he did it himself, he might be able to steal from her in a way that could do the job.

The trick then, would be finding what he needed in time, while she was gone, removing her from the loop totally. Acting alone, if at all possible. With no one else knowing that it was happening. Not even the woman who was supposed to be in it with him.

He just shrugged.

“Too stupid? A few trips could get the job done, if we do it right. I’ll need you to hold my hand though, since otherwise I’ll probably screw this up. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

There was a soft laugh, and after a moment a slight nod.

“No, it could work. Most of the time people try to use an unsuspecting pawn for this kind of thing. That’s less controllable and a point of possible failure. We are immune though, so could spread things physically, if we had the right disease. Something that will last outside the host for a long time, and be transmissible by both air and touch… Which my monkey pox is specifically designed to do. Really, the natural kind is… Yes. We could really do it. The lethality is high enough. We should work on that when I get back, in a few weeks? I won’t make you do it alone.”

Connor let himself agree. After all, the worst that happened was nothing. The most likely outcome would be that he tried to act first, on his own, and nothing of note happened at all. The disease was probably real, though it was clear that she could lie to him, so it might not be certain at all. There could be a shut-off worked into it or maybe a terminator gene that would cause them to die after reproducing a certain number of times. Except that doing that could be found out about. No one ever had before, in any of the files. Meaning what she had in her lab would have to be real enough to pass all the tests.

“That works for me. Anyway, I need to go and look up how to cook. At least if I want to live to see you again.”

There was a funny look from his pal, as he walked away. Connor ignored it, even as he noted it taking place with his peripheral vision. For the life of him it seemed like she was checking out his behind. That was pretty cute, he had to admit, though she’d never been all that interested in him that way before, from what he’d seen.

After that, he did what he’d said he was going to, actually going to his room and watching several hours of cooking instructions. The man in the video started with how to use a stove, oven and microwave, which actually wasn’t that hard, it turned out. Then the slightly chubby man went over how to follow instructions from recipes, which meant that Connor managed to open a box of macaroni and cook it perfectly, with some canned vegetables added to the cheese sauce packets, so it would be healthier.

It wasn’t an inspired meal, perhaps, but it was food and good enough for him to finish it all. After cleaning up, he went back to learning about making food, since there were, for normal people, three full meals per day. At eight he walked over to his Father’s room, unannounced, and tapped on the door.

The man let him in himself, smiling when he saw him in the doorway, standing back.

“Connor! Come in. I was just going over the new plans. They… aren’t going well. We’ve released massive amounts of chemicals using packaging plastics as planned and they’re in stores. For some reason, they go inert in the human body, though. Not totally, but the death toll from suicide is still too low.” The door was closed as Connor entered, his Dad walking away into the living space, about fifteen feet ahead of him.

Walker was there, sitting on one of the sofas. The man waved at him as he approached.

“Hey, kid. I reviewed your handling of the Ephraim situation. Efficient. Bennet had suggested it would be. Some of the higher ups had wondered if leaving the new kid in charge of it was the best plan, of course. Word is that they’re satisfied with the course you chose. Now, at least. After the fact. Half of them figured that you were going to keep the mother and the girl for sex.”

That sounded like what an average teen boy would have done. As it was, he simply smiled.

“Doctor Short… Bertie… She’s probably behind thwarting all of the plans. Not alone or anything, but… She’s worked out some way to lie to me. Which is fine in and of itself. I mean, if we could take my abilities away, I’d do it myself. It’s a curse. Only…” Connor expected the others to act like he was betraying them, saying what he was. She was their friend and coworker.

Connor was, at best, a nuisance that had managed a few weeks of being slightly useful. Almost by accident and certainly not due to any great skill or knowledge on his part.

Rather than shoot him, Stephen simply smiled at him, standing about ten feet away.

“We know. It’s been suspected for a long time. What we don’t have is who all is working with her. There are seven people that we’re watching, in different organizations. We’ve been using you to keep her busy, for the last days while things are in the works. Do you think you can keep on top of that for us, for a while longer?”

Connor thought about it for a while before answering. The two men didn’t speak while he did it, just waiting, patiently. Not speaking, even if both of them clearly wanted to. Being unable to fight off his ability totally. Showing, subtly that they were either the best actors in the world, or under the full effect of the ability he couldn’t control at all. A thing that Bertie hadn’t managed very well at all in similar circumstances.

He wanted to feel betrayed, but the truth was that the woman didn't owe him anything. She’d clearly been a spy and saboteur well before he was even born. That sort of meant, no matter how he felt about being used in the moment, that he simply needed to get past it.

“She told me that she’s going to be gone for a few weeks. To London. I also have something in the works. It probably won’t be effective, but it might force her to focus on cleaning up my mess. If I do it right, she might be annoyed with me. I won’t go into it, since solving the mystery of what I’m doing is really the point.”

His Father gave him an intrigued look.

“Interesting. We’ll do the same, if you don’t mind? We have things in the works that could actually do the trick, finally. Perhaps we can get to the bottom of the plot, if nothing else. Now, congratulations on not being too sentimental or driven by your hormones, son. Perhaps you should… Find something else to do for the time being? Not to be… It’s a bit hard to work, with you right here.”

That made sense, even if it felt a little sad, being sent away like that. Not that he didn't get it.

“I’ll… Go and exercise, I suppose. We should… Meet up in a few days. I’ll be breaking into places here in the meantime. Stealing and being creepy in general. Then coming and going at all hours. We’re about to leave here, right? I need to stay here and wait for Bertie. If we could be left alone for a while after that… If nothing else we can claim that it’s about sex.”

It was part of his plan, after all.

The words got a laugh, if nothing else.

“Go to it then. Do you need help in what you have planned?” His Father seemed interested which felt off. The man hadn’t really been involved for most of the rest of his life.

“Probably. Except that I can’t accept it. The point is that Bertie needs to find out about this after it’s too late. Hopefully that will make her scramble when the time comes. Still, try not to have me killed until after Doctor Short gets back? I’ll avoid killing myself, if I can, until after that.”

Again, both men laughed, as if he was kidding about it. Connor didn’t know for certain that the Order wouldn’t be getting rid of him shortly. Even if he was working as a distraction for Doc for the time being.

He left the room without saying anything else. After all, his plans were weak and not likely to work at all. Even as a distraction, he was probably doomed to failure. Not because he was an idiot. No, he honestly was smart enough. That didn't make up for him lacking certain, probably basic, information.

After all, what were the odds that Doctor Short would have left her bio-agent in her refrigerator, properly marked in a way that he could both understand and in a form that was actually active and workable, without having been sabotaged already?

Connor knew that it wasn’t likely, even though he still needed to try. It was that or learn how to run the lab equipment in two weeks, making his own versions of the same things. For some reason he had to think that it was probably a bit harder than making noodles with a cheese sauce.

For that matter, he didn't know how to break into one of the rooms there, either. Except, well, Etain had used similar card keys, so he understood part of what would be needed. The front desk would have a machine that encoded the RFID chips. If he went there, getting a copy that let him into Bertie’s room should be easy enough for him to manage. Then he could simply walk in.

That would be caught on camera though and too easy to figure out, even if he disguised himself somehow. Meaning that the whole system would need to be down while he took action.

Again, it was a thing he might be able to pull off, he realized. Simply by finding the right person and touching them. Then asking the right questions. Not that he was going to pull it all off, in the end. Then, that wasn’t his real point. The goal was to be a pain in a certain tiny doctor’s firm and tight behind.

Smiling, he decided to do it anyway. After all, there were other, real, plans in play already. His little adventure was all about stalling for time. That and making things a little harder for Doc Short, since the woman had, clearly, been playing with him, for some reason. That part didn't really make sense, directly.

He had an interesting enough power, and the flaws inherent in it did make him easy enough to approach. Even to manipulate for a certain type of person. An abused boy who was socially isolated had to be an easy target. Doc wasn’t even that pretty and really, didn’t need to be. Just being willing to be around him would have probably worked. The sex was… Well, he understood her thoughts there, even if she could lie to him.

Muttering to himself, he headed back to his room in the underground complex.

“She made a point of offering something, knowing that I could just take it anyway. That way she kept the power in the situation.” Except that it still took him not being an insane rapist to work.

Honestly, he wasn’t totally certain that he wasn’t headed that way. The situation with Magda had been pushed on him, of course. The thing was, Connor knew that he didn’t feel bad about it, now. Just like the deaths, inside of himself, there was nothing in response to the events of the day.

Keeping that in mind, he went to his room. There he changed and started right into his plan, not exercising at all. After all, he only had three weeks to try and end the world. To save humanity from itself.

Chapter thirteen

Connor touched the reused, rather disgusting, cotton ball to the lips of the hard-looking flight attendant as he passed her. It would look strange, but the three people behind him were still stunned, just standing there on the plane, blocking the aisle. Over half the people had gotten the same treatment already.

The damp ball of fuzz didn’t just hold monkey pox on it, so pressing it to the mouths of dozens of people was really no worse than the thing had started out as. Even if people were, as a rule, a bit gross. That part had been learned by him over the last two weeks. Connor had spent a lot of time at the airport in that time, sneaking past security and making certain that people traveling overseas to the right parts of the world were as infected as possible.

Thousands of people had been traveling that way, with a half dozen virulent and lethal diseases having shown up all over the world in the last week. It wasn’t just one or two countries, either. Already there were reports of millions having come down with things. Monkey pox, small pox, hemorrhagic fever and at least three things that no one had ever even heard of.

Except, at a guess, Doctor Short. Connor didn’t doubt that she’d work things out as soon as she had all the needed data. After all, some of the people were ill with more than one thing at once, which was nearly impossible in nature. Even the regular news seemed to understand that what was happening was, at the very least, a terror attack of unheard of proportions.

At the same time, people had been killing themselves in Western countries. Suddenly and hard. Six days before, something had changed, hard and fast. At about three in the morning. Connor had noticed it himself. Only his promise to try not to kill himself had kept him from taking a handgun and blowing his brains out already. That and the fact his plan wasn’t finished yet.

In the parking lot, waiting for him was the little blue self-driving car. It had been taking him back and forth to different places over the last weeks. No one had tried to stop him or questioned what he was doing. Not even at the Charlie location. Everyone else had gone back home, except for the caretaker and the minimal staff there. Day to day, Connor hadn’t even seen them, for over a week. For all he knew even those people might have left.

After the car trip back home, which had him in well after midnight, Connor went to his room. Then he cooked a meal, following the directions carefully so it wasn’t burned or seasoned incorrectly. His skills weren’t good yet, but he was, he thought, getting better.

The television had been turned on, since it turned out that there were news channels that played misinformation twenty-four hours a day. That was informative, for someone like him that had a bit more data than the general public did. The talking heads were all worried about what was going on, but they didn’t understand that they, personally, were going to die. Not yet. So far, the diseases had mainly infected India and Pakistan, with a strong hit into China.

Except that almost everyplace was going down from what he’d done. That part was interesting, since no one had seemed to put together that he’d been behind it at all. Not even Walker or his Father, who knew he had a plan.

At two in the morning there was a soft tapping at his door. Connor hadn’t been in bed, since he’d been making a point to work at night, for the last five days. There was no reason for it, except that he wanted to kill himself so badly it nearly hurt. That, from what his Father had told him, was due to the chemicals in the food that he’d eaten. The man didn't seem concerned about what would happen with Connor. Then, he’d flat out told the man over the phone that he was going to kill himself and would be, even if the things had totally been out of his system.

There was no room for unlimited truth at the end of the world.

Things like that were a great time for lies.

He jogged to the door, the handgun he’d taken to carrying when not working pressing against his waistband in the front. That was comforting, in a way. If nothing else it meant that Bennet, his boss, wouldn’t punish him for being unprepared on the job. She’d actually been calling almost every day, keeping him informed as to what was going on. Mainly about the growing numbers of suicides.

Opening the door, he saw that it was his friend, Bertie, on the other side. She was dressed in loose slacks, and a light blue sweater. The fuzzy kind that left her seeming slightly long faced, geeky and cute. Even if she’d been lying to him and working to prevent the Order from saving the world he hardened, just seeing her there. A thing that got him to grin.

“Hey! You’re back early. How are thing? I saw that Laveen had a car accident, in London, about a week ago.” That had been in the news, before everything became all about disease and suicides.

The small woman laughed, started to move in to hug him, then didn’t do it, her arms hanging out for a moment as he stepped back.

Her words were pleased enough, when she spoke.

“Yes. I have an alibi for that, though… Well, I can’t lie about it, can I? I set it up. That required MI-Six to cut his brakes and make certain he was chased enough to crash lethally. The idiot deserved it though. Betraying any of the secret societies like that is insane. Especially if you’re going to be caught like that.” She looked a tiny bit smug then, as if he wasn’t going to understand that she still thought that she’d gotten away with things.

Connor kept to the rules, staying about ten feet from her, allowing her to float into the room with him. It wasn’t hard to feel like he wanted her there, which surprised him a bit. After she got into the space, he shrugged at her, grinning like a fool.

“We could… Sex really won’t do much for you. I missed you though.” That, sadly enough was actually true. Traitor or enemy operative, the woman was still the best friend he had in the world.

She gave him a funny look then, and shook her head.

“I missed you, as well. I know that probably seems off. I really did though. You’re not a bad guy, for a sociopath. I could do something for you, if you want? A blowjob or… Whatever.”

Connor smiled then, and shrugged.

“That would be fun. I was just watching the news. That’s…” He waved at the screen, not feeling much at all about what was being shown there. It was all about death. Mainly the diseases around the world. A colorful map showed then, which indicated that almost everyplace in the world was highly infected. Except for New Zealand for some reason.

Bertie moved toward him a bit, pulling her fuzzy top off, showing that she didn’t have a bra on underneath that. Her breasts were high and tight. Her nipples were standing erect as well already. It wasn’t cool in the room, meaning it was actually about him. He moved in and kissed her, which had her pretending to freeze in place.

“Take your slacks off. Underwear too. I’ll get some lubricant.” After all, she was faking and he wasn’t going to stick his dick into her mouth at the moment. He didn’t trust her that much.

When she came back to herself, him handing her a bottle of oil from the bathroom cabinet, she looked at it and sighed.

“So, I should lube up the back hole, finally? I’m really not used to that kind of thing.”

He didn't want her that way, so shook his head. After all, one way or the other, this was going to be their last time, he didn't doubt. To that end he did the work himself, with her pretending for him again. The action itself was a bit mechanical. It still felt nice, and she tried harder to push back against him, as she knelt on her hands and knees. As he finished, he leaned over her and grunted. Then, staying inside of her for the moment, he spoke. Gently. Lovingly, even.

“That was nice. So… You really aren’t my great-great-grandmother, are you? That was pretty close to the first lie you told me. It was the viral-nano-hive shot, right?”

She moved then, even if he was still inside of her. Pushing back against and wiggling her narrow hips.

“Nope. That was just what I told you. The agent I used for that was just in the mist that sprayed into the room. I set up the attack that day just to introduce that to you. I’d thought that I’d been fooling you pretty well, what gave me away?”

He smiled, starting to move again, inside of her. The feeling was intense and he hardened again. Excited that she was actually able to move on her own. It was different than anything he’d ever done before.

“A lot of things. It was mainly how you moved during sex. Magda was a sex doll, compared to what you were doing. Then, the thing with the great-grandma lie… That one was a bit of a giveaway, even at the time. So, I don’t suppose you want to tell me all about how you and your friends prevented the saving of the world for all this time? Why, as well. I mean, that’s kind of evil, isn’t it?”

He kept working away, his hips slapping against her firm buttocks, speeding up a little bit, which got a real sounding groan from her. It didn’t sound displeased at least.

Finally, between gasps, she spoke.

“About… A hundred years ago, we, a group of people from the different secret societies, decided to take over. The thing… Connor, we don’t have to kill everyone. We’ve had free energy and the ability to make almost anything we need for over seventy years. My group and I… Well, we tried to stop this from happening. It’s too late now. They figured out the electrical signals that was suppressing the chemicals from the food. That was going out over the power lines. As for the other things, the half dozen diseases… Someone hit us from out of the blue there. None of us saw that one coming at all.” She just fucked him for a bit, working almost desperately.

Probably to keep him entertained, instead of to take her own pleasure in things. Then, for the first time, she orgasmed with him, or at least faked it. That felt interesting, since she tightened around him, setting him into motion at the same time.

Finally, he moved back, getting a soft gasp from the woman. One who was probably exactly as old as she’d claimed. That had been mentioned before she’d dosed him with whatever it was that had made her immune to him.

That got him to smile, as he pulled his pants up. The handgun, which had been beside them, on the floor, was put back into place again. At his waist, ready to be deployed at need.

“Oh… If you can make yourself immune to me, can you just… Block my power? I mean, on my level? So I can be normal again.” He felt hopeful, for about ten seconds. Then she spoke.

“Not really. I could make anyone you want immune for about six weeks at a time. It’s a nano cluster, that organizes on your signal. What you give off that forces the truth out of people. You have to have it at the same time, but we could do a few people at once, if you want. Maybe even hundreds at once, if you ever learn to use your powers efficiently. That… That part, with the increased field, was all you.”

That wasn’t perfect, but could be enough for him to live with, he decided.

“Ah. Well… I guess the trick now is just if we get to live or not then? Just to be clear, you and I killed off most of the world. It wasn’t anyone else. I don’t mean that you lying to me was what did it either. The diseases are the ones from your lab refrigerator. All of them, since I didn’t know what to try in order to make it work. Sure, it looks like it was planned that way, since that many major diseases can’t happen all at once like this. Not in the real world, without help. I suppose that we could stop that, if you have a trick for it planned? Otherwise… Well, we probably shouldn’t live, if we didn’t really need to kill all those people. The suicide chemicals wasn’t me. That was the rest of the Order, if I have it right. I was pretty much just your distraction.” Not that it was really all about the naked woman in front of him.

She didn't get dressed, just turning to him, sweeping her long hair to the side and sitting up to look at him. Her brown eyes were pretty, behind her glasses.

“I’d wondered. Technically… Well, I know what I had in my lab, so I can stop a lot of it. Millions will die, most likely. You just managed to do too good of a job. A lot of governments will go down as well. Still, people always die. Do you want to do that? Save them? For that matter, are you planning to kill yourself? Part of that is the chemicals, sure, but you’re really not mentally well. There’s no real reason for you to die now, though. We can fix a lot of this, if we work together. It really… Well, we set things up to try and make it possible to control the most evil and vile people on the planet. It worked for a long time, but… Yeah, this isn’t totally on you. You were given information that wasn’t real and made to believe it. That’s on me. On my people.”

He thought about it, and then shrugged.

“Would it be wrong to mutter whatever and go off to brood for a while?”

Those words got a laugh from the tiny woman. She reached up to rub her face, still sitting on the carpet.

“Not really. This is all my fault, at least your part in it. I shouldn’t have left those things in the lab, unguarded like that. All of the work on this, all of it, was mine. I’m… Really, I need to get out of here and see about saving the world. Do you want to come with me? I know it’s going to be hard to trust me now, but you honestly don’t need to take out the whole world in order to save it. That… well, my group put that idea together about fifty years ago, to get the other groups all on the same page. It made it a lot easier to control everyone, I swear that was our only reason behind it. That… Might be done now. We can do better. We have the technology to stop climate change and even get us off the planet, so overpopulation won’t be a problem. Immortality even, for the masses. It will take work, to get everyone on the same page. Too many people are assholes that want power. That was always the real issue. The Vile Machinations of those who were too selfish or stupid to understand that our real power was in working together.”  She paused then, and moved in, to kiss him on the lips. “I don’t think you’re like that, Connor Harriman. I don’t know why that’s the case, but it really seems to be. You aren’t good, of course. You also aren’t totally evil.”

The offer was nice enough. He nearly shot her anyway, for having created the current problem, then didn’t. If they truly didn’t need to kill everyone, if they could save the world without doing that, then doing that was the right plan. Even if he wanted to die at the moment. That had been around for a while though and he might survive it, knowing why he felt that way.

“Sure. I want proof that we don’t have to kill everyone first. If we don’t then… Let’s save the world? We should get everyone in on this, if we can.”

She pulled back then, her eyebrows going up.

“You mean unify all the groups? That… Hasn’t worked well, in the past. Really, that’s why we’ve had to do everything the hard way.”

Connor shook his head.

“No, I mean that we need to unify everyone else. The good people of the world that don’t torture their kids into being brainwashed monsters. I’m… I don’t feel bad, about killing millions of people. Is that the kind of person that should be left alive?”

The words got him hugged. That was probably manipulative of her, since only one person in the whole world could really hold him that way, at the moment. When she spoke, her voice was meek sounding, which had to be fake.

“No. You should probably kill yourself. Except, if you and I don’t save the world, I’m not certain anyone else can. The fact that you’re alive means that my people were truly blindsided by what you managed to do, working alone. Otherwise, if they ever knew about it in the future, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything that would work. Are you in on this? If so, we need to leave now. Otherwise we’ll probably be hit with a kill bot swarm in about half an hour. Everything here is monitored, after all. I know that because I helped built the system in the first place.” She grinned, starting to put her clothing on. At the same time, she removed her glasses and threw them on the floor.

Not needing them any longer.

Connor thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Let’s do it? I was always trying to save as many people as we could. If that can be done with everyone getting out alive, then we should make that happen. Really, if we can stop most of the deaths from these things… We should.” He wasn’t able to feel bad about what he’d done.

Really, he wasn’t able to feel much of anything, which probably meant that he deserved to die, or needed to, in order for the world to be a better place.

The real issue was that he didn't know what to do.

Instead of killing himself, like he really felt like he should, Connor found himself with a new job suddenly. Undoing his screwup. Bennet had told him that what he did was his own responsibility. To that end he took Bertie by the hand and pulled her to the door.

“We can do this. Let’s go… Save the world from… Well, us, in the moment. I feel a bit like a tool now, I have to admit.”

His friend, possibly his girlfriend, nodded at him, jogging down the hallway as soon as they got to the door.

“I can see that. One thing I’ve learned, if you live long enough, you’ll eventually end up fucking up in major ways. All we can do is figure out why and fix it. That isn’t always possible. This time, it mainly will be. Welcome aboard, by the way. In my group, you don’t even have to eat a baby or survive a satanic initiation to get in. Just be willing to try and be a good person. I think you can do it.”

Connor doubted that, really. He wasn’t a good person at all. Then, that wasn’t what Bertie had just asked of him. She’d simply asked him to be willing to try and be good. That, even if it didn’t work, was something he might be able to manage.

“I can do it. If I can get a bit of help on it? That means not lying to me, even if you can. Like that stuff with Faith… What was up with that?”

The woman kept running, glancing over at him after a moment. Then she cleared her throat.

“I’d thought that we might be able to save her. It’s one of the problems of being a good person. You have to try and save the innocent ones. It’s why I’ve been working to get you on my side the whole time, Connor. You aren’t guilty. Not yet. We can still save you.”

That, he had to figure, might not be true.

It was worth trying for though. As they kept running, going slowly so Bertie could keep up, he took her hand and held it.

Even if he failed, he was finally getting a chance to escape from his past.

A thing that he hadn’t thought would happen without dying first.

“Thanks. For trying. I’ll do the same.”

A thing that would require him to change everything he was. A thing that he was more than willing to do.

Afterword:

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