Faith cried until her eyes hurt, but the tears kept coming. Time got away from her, maybe as much as a couple of hours, but it might have been three or four. She felt betrayed, even though Reg hadn’t deceived her. Not really. Still, she had the same sick feeling she’d had when Frank hit her up to go out with him. She hated the scientists who’d botched making them as much as she hated Nameless Ones.
“Why can’t anything ever be easy?” she moaned and stared at her blotchy face in the mirror. The scent from lovemaking clung to her. She looked at the shower, thinking she should scrub the residue away, but she couldn’t stand to eradicate the last traces she’d ever have of Reg.
I’m being stupid. I have to take a shower sometime.
Yeah, but not right now.
Reg was long since gone. She’d heard him leave. Heard the door close with the finality of a coffin lid slamming shut after she ordered him out of her apartment. She’d had to take a hard line, so she didn’t yank the door open and fall into his arms. His words from the other side of the closed bathroom door ran through her mind over and over like a radio broadcast she couldn’t shut off.
“I’m standing here because I love you. I didn’t handle this well, but I never, never intended to hurt you. Jesus, Faith. You’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted in my life. You might think I’ve had lots of female company, but you’re wrong. The sad truth is I’ve always been afraid to let anyone close enough to hurt me.”
She bent over the sink and sluiced cold water on her face, feeling like absolute crap. There wasn’t any reason to remain in the enclosed space, so she padded into the hallway that smelled like him, woodsy and enticing. The bedroom was worse. Before a fresh spate of tears crushed her resolve not to go after him, she went into the kitchen and threw the pizza in the trash.
She pulled another bottle of beer out of the fridge, but then put it back and dragged an unopened fifth of bourbon from a cupboard. She’d never been a drinker, but maybe it would dull the edges of her misery. Faith sat heavily in a chair, staring at the liquor.
Why hadn’t he told her before?
“Oh for Christ fucking sake.” She answered her mental query out loud. “He never said anything because none of the ones who ran the breeding farms wanted to be found. They became targets after the rebellion, and the ones we didn’t kill scattered.”
Her eyes widened, and she bit down hard on her lower lip. Reg had said something else. She extracted his exact words from her database brain.
“None of that matters. I’ve put plans in place, started wheels turning. Soon my identity won’t be secret any longer.”
She fisted one hand and sent it crashing into a nearby wall, leaving a hole in the sheetrock. What the hell was Reg up to that would reveal his role at the breeding farms? Didn’t he understand Nameless Ones would come after him until he was dead? Seven years might have passed, but the hatred fueling their rebellion had only grown stronger.
She dropped her head into her hands. “Aw shit,” she groaned. “What should I do?” Warning him was logical, except surely he understood the consequences of outing himself.
The safest path was to do nothing. The same survival mechanism that had chased Reg out of her home earlier resurrected itself, but she pushed it aside. She had to talk with someone, figure out what to do. Her normal ability to examine every angle and plot a course of action wasn’t working as it should. The only question was who to raise via telepathy.
Faith wanted Honor or Glory or Hope, but Hope was still in Montana. This might be her last night alone with Charlie before they returned to the craziness at the CIA. Faith couldn’t bring herself to disturb her. That left Honor or Glory, but Honor would almost certainly talk with Milton and Glory with Roy. If Reg were up to something, maybe it was secret and…
Faith dug her nails into her palm. Her mind was starting to resemble a hamster running on a wheel that wouldn’t stop. Or even slow down.
Charity was the only one left. Faith bit her lip so hard it bled, and she licked the salty liquid away. She felt guilty as sin. She’d avoided Charity, first because her genome had been unstable and later because she’d settled in with a Nameless One.
Faith hadn’t been a very good friend. She knew it, and it felt wrong to raise Charity to help solve her problems. Any of the new women would sit with her, listen to her, but she didn’t know them like she knew the other four. Plus, they’d just arrived in the normal human world, so their observations wouldn’t be worth as much.
She was still staring at the unopened bourbon and feeling wretched when a brisk knock on her door sent her flying to her feet. She’d have dropped the booze, but her reflexes were quick enough to catch it before the bottle shattered on the tile floor.
Who the hell was out there?
Had Reg come back after all? Part of her wished it was him, but another part wanted to disappear out a window if he’d returned. She wasn’t ready to see him again. Hell, she might never be, but tonight she felt raw and bruised and vulnerable.
The knock sounded again, followed by Charity’s mind voice. “Faith. I know you’re in there. If you don’t let me in, I’ll use kinetics.”
Faith sent her own jot of kinetics to spring the lock and plodded into the living room.
Charity walked in. Pushing the door shut behind her, she scanned Faith from head to toe and then sniffed, nostrils flaring. “What’s with the booze?” she asked.
“I was considering having a drink.” Faith’s voice sounded as dull and dead as she felt inside. “Why are you here?”
“Tony sent me,” she said blandly. “There are things you need to know.”
“Huh?” Confusion swept through Faith. What did Tony have to do with anything?
Charity moved around Faith, sat on the sofa, and patted the place next to her. “Sit. We need to talk.”
Faith rocked back on her heels. “Can’t whatever this is wait until tomorrow morning? It’s getting late.”
“Do you really want it to wait?” Charity’s harsh green gaze softened. “Jesus, Faith. Look at yourself. You’ve been crying, and pretty damned hard from the looks of things. This place reeks of sex, and you’re clutching that booze bottle like a life preserver. None of us drink, so the fact that you’re even considering it tells me something’s gone bad wrong. I’m bearing good news. Seems like you could use some.”
Kindness from Charity was so unexpected, Faith felt the quick, hot bite of tears again. She swiped the back of one hand across her eyes. “I do not want to cry anymore. It’s counterproductive.”
Charity shrugged. “Yeah, but sometimes counterproductive helps. Sit. Open that bottle, and we’ll pass it back and forth.”
“You don’t have to be nice to me,” Faith muttered. “I haven’t been very nice.”
“Sure you have. I get it that Tony makes you cringe. It’s because you don’t know him very well. He’s nothing like the men in our compound. Neither is Frank, but that’s not why I’m here. Things are afoot, and you’re the only one who doesn’t know about them. Tony sent me over here to make sure you’re in the loop.”
Panic closed a fist around her heart. She perched on the edge of the couch next to Charity, who pried the bottle out of her hands and opened it. “Things?” Faith inquired around a tongue that felt thick and uncooperative. “What things?”
Charity tilted back the bourbon and took a tentative swallow, making a face. “Shit! How the fuck does anyone ever get drunk on this stuff? It burns like a bitch.”
“What things?” Faith’s voice shrilled.
“The men found the master compound—and its computer. Seems our erstwhile kin are tired of playing cat and mouse. They built an override switch into the new mainframe that will blow up every compound at the same time.” Charity paused for effect. “Killing all of them.”
Faith doubled over as if someone had punched her in the gut. Breath exploded from her lungs. “How’d you find that out? Are you sure?”
“It was Roy who discovered it, and then the others corroborated his intel. I’d peg it at around eighty-five percent for accuracy. The only thing we’re not sure of is if they have some plan to go out in a blaze of glory and take as many normal humans with them as they can.”
Charity took another swallow of liquor and made a face. “Before you ask how it works, they piggybacked onto cloud technology to make certain the destruction code hits every compound at exactly the same moment.”
Faith straightened and reached for the bourbon. It really did burn going down, but she swallowed two more times before handing it back to Charity. “That’s terrible. We have to do something.”
“We are. Frank and Tony made a recording that they’re seeding into the master computer. It’s probably done by now. Reg added his own plea to theirs. He told them he was one of the scientists responsible for V2, and a whole bunch of other stuff too.”
Charity’s usual taciturn expression crumpled. “I listened to it, and it damn near made me cry. He’s one hell of a man. Not many can admit they were wrong. Even fewer are willing to ask for forgiveness or put their own lives on the line to make something right. His message isn’t long, maybe only ten minutes, but he clarified his hopes and dreams for our kind. He still believes in that dream, and he invited everyone listening to step forward and make it a reality. Said he’d stand with them every step of the way.”
Faith swallowed hard around a growing lump in her throat. “So Reg is with Frank and Tony?”
Charity nodded. “Yeah. In the conference room across from their lab. Everyone is there—except you. Roy was afraid things were escalating fast, so we had to get this master computer project in place pronto.”
“I get that part.” Faith held out her hand for the bottle. “Where I’m having trouble is exactly why you’re here.”
“Focus, goddammit,” Charity snapped, sounding like her temperamental self. “I’ve already told you that.”
“Fine,” Faith snapped back. “Tell me again.”
“To make sure you knew about the Doomsday switch and our attempts to reach everyone before it’s truly too late.” Charity’s tone dripped reproach at having to repeat herself. “You were the only one who didn’t know. Except for the new recruits, of course. The other part is that Milton’s ordered full integration. No more Black Ops, at least not where freaks are concerned.”
Faith’s mind was reeling. It wasn’t relevant to Charity’s disclosure, but she muttered, “We really need to come up with another name for ourselves.”
“Yeah. It might happen but probably not tonight.” Charity eyed Faith. “Feel like a run? I’m headed back to the conference room.”
Faith replied with a question of her own. “How come you’re not asking why I was crying? Or trying to dig the info out of my head?”
Charity shrugged. “If you wanted me to know, you’d pony up the info. It’s none of my business unless you want it to be.”
Faith set the bottle on the coffee table. Her eyes still felt hot, gritty, and swollen. She shook her head. “If I look as crappy as I feel, I shouldn’t go anywhere.”
Charity got to her feet. “Think about it, Faith. We’re all there. You should be too. We’re waiting on reactions from the compounds, so we might be there all night.” Before Faith could demur again, Charity trotted to the door and let herself out.
She turned back before latching it. “One more thing.”
“Really?” Faith stood. “How much more could there possibly be?”
“This one’s at least potentially good,” Charity countered. “Frank and Tony came up with a major improvement in the injection series Roy and his men took. They added a stripped down version of Cortexiphan, and—”
“I don’t need the long version. Why is that important? We’re already augmented.”
“Because Reg volunteered as a test subject. He already got the first of two infusions and is doing really well.” Charity’s green eyes danced with enthusiasm. “It’s awesome he trusted us enough to step forward. Frank and Tony might’ve twisted his arm a little, but he wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t believe in their ability.”
Faith’s mouth gaped open, but Charity pulled the door closed. The sound of her footsteps pelting down the hall faded as she hit the stairwell. Faith stalked to the door and pulled it open, looking out on the empty hallway. She could call Charity back, pump her for more information, but no amount of secondhand info would take the place of seeing for herself.
She pushed the door shut and ran through her living room, down the hall, and into the bathroom, intent on a fast shower while she instructed her body to repair the reddened places around her eyes. Fear for Reg dogged her, clawing at her guts.
Milton had taken those injections, and they’d damn near been the death of him because of his age. Granted Reg was maybe ten years younger than Milton, but still.
She shuffled through physiological and biochemical information in her overstuffed brain. By the time she was done showering and mopping most of the moisture from her long hair with a towel, she’d come to the conclusion that human reactions to both the injection series and Cortexiphan revolved around a combination of the chemicals and each person’s unique physiology. Biological markers could predict some of the reactions, but not all of them.
Had Frank and Tony been thorough?
After what happened with Milton, she sure as hell hoped so. When you cut to the bone, they were still Nameless Ones, and arrogance was where they lived.
I’m not being fair. They saved Milton’s life. Charlie’s too.
And Charity’s.
Faith dragged on dark sweats with the CIA logo blazoned across her back. She pushed her kinetics outside to check both conditions and temperature. It wasn’t raining, so she laced into running shoes, and secured her hood over her head. On the move, she zipped into a jacket and donned gloves before running out her door.
Maybe Reg wouldn’t be happy to see her. He’d had time to think about her rejection, process it, and react. That part wasn’t important. She had to assess him for herself and make sure Frank and Tony hadn’t started wheels in motion that would harm him.
Faith threw her kinetics wide open and ran hard for Frank and Tony’s lab building. It was on the far side of Langley, quite a way from her apartment building. While she ran, she thought about the compounds. She’d been consumed with hating the men, but they’d had their own share of problems. Their original design lacked many basic skills they needed to live independently.
Coming up with V3, the third iteration of their genome, had exhausted most of their resources for the first year after the rebellion. But that first year also laid the groundwork for a society lacking in damn near everything. It had been easy to hate the humans who’d created them. Once the men heavied up, establishing themselves as masters in the compounds, it was easy to hate them too.
Maybe if we hadn’t been so immersed in animosity, we’d have accomplished a whole lot more.
The insight rattled her. If they hadn’t been so set on revenge, they wouldn’t have needed to hide in their compounds. Normal humans wouldn’t have been afraid of them. The CIA wouldn’t have established a Black Ops taskforce to take them down.
They’d been masters of their own doom. Why the hell hadn’t any of them realized that and changed something? Sadness for her kind filled her, and she silently thanked every single normal human who believed in them, saw the value in augmented genetics, and were willing to overlook the places they fell short of being entirely human.
She reached the building where the men’s lab was and stopped at the door. The entire second and third floors were lit up, shedding light around the building. A gaggle of cars parked along the street suggested that Charity’s depiction of “everyone” being there might not be far off the mark.
Faith took a few deep breaths. Lots of people wasn’t a bad thing. It meant she and Reg wouldn’t have to do more than nod at each other. She could hang with Honor and Glory and Charity while they waited to see if the compounds reacted to the message seeded into their master supercomputer.
She stood near the door, collecting her thoughts and gathering her scattered emotions. Could she take down the barrier she’d thrown into place after Reg revealed who he was, what he’d done?
I already knew who he was. Her precise, data-driven brain stepped in, correcting her. The only new part was his role in the breeding farms.
Yes. Fine. But can I lay it aside? Not hold it against him?
Faith pushed her hood back and raked a hand through her still-damp hair. She needed an answer because it wasn’t fair to either of them if she indicated she could get past her antipathy for the scientists—but fell short. Her heart ached from earlier. Pushing him away had been hard. She’d done it because she didn’t see any other path.
Had anything changed?
Yes. Two things. She answered her own question.
He signed up to make himself more like me.
He offered himself up in an attempt to get freaks in the compounds to rethink…everything. Who they are. How they came to be. What kind of future they wanted. And he promised to stand by everyone who stakes a claim to the future he’s offering.
Faith felt small, petty. She’d held onto the same negativity that had all but destroyed her people. Every time she’d considered rethinking how she felt about Nameless Ones, a host of reasons cropped up that mired her in old, nonproductive thought patterns.
Maybe I blew it with Reg, but my bigotry stops here. I’m not going to perpetuate my own narrow-mindedness any longer.
Change starts right now. With me.
She’d apologize to Reg. And Frank and Tony. Maybe not tonight when everyone was on tenterhooks waiting to see if the freaks would listen to reason—or if it was truly too late for them. But she’d say she was sorry very soon. And mean it. Prejudice was like a cancer. Once it got a toehold, it set down a network of roots that were hard to eradicate. Realizing they were there was a first step. It might take her months to claw her way down to bedrock, but she’d do it.
Tilting her head, she activated the retinal scanner, and the deadbolt clicked open. Faith hadn’t been here before, but familiar energy drew her upstairs. Everyone was congregated in a good-sized room at the end of the second floor hallway watching a screen that took up an entire wall. A cheer erupted as she entered the room, accompanied by Tony pointing at a new light flashing on the display.
Faith glanced at it and realized it was the map of all the compounds in the country. Maybe half the locations sported flashing white lights.
“We got another one,” Milton exclaimed, looking stoked. He punched Frank’s upper arm. “Damn if this isn’t going to work.”
“I am so relieved,” Roy said from his place next to Milton in the front of the room. “I was afraid we’d waited too long.”
“It was Reg’s message that did it.” Frank sounded somber. “Hey! Look! Two more lights.”
Reg detached himself from where he’d been lounging against a wall. “Nah. You’re giving me way too much credit. Besides—” he smiled and it broke Faith’s heart “—credit isn’t important. Results are the only thing that counts.” He focused on Milton. “We’re going to need government resources and support to take care of the GAs. You’ll note I came up with new moniker. It’s more respectful than freaks.”
“Already in process with HHS,” Milton said gruffly. “Not that tonight was a foregone conclusion, but I like to be proactive. Sometimes it skews the energy in the universe in our favor.”
“See?” Reg grinned broadly. “Success has a thousand parents.”
“GA is genetically altered, right?” Roy quirked a brow.
“Exactly,” Reg replied. “It was either GAs or GMs, and I preferred the former.”
Faith clung to the shadows. Reg hadn’t seen her yet. Maybe she should leave. Tonight had turned into a triumph for him. She was happy for his success. Touched beyond words he’d cared enough to risk himself reaching out to her people. She wanted to hear his recorded message—the one that had finally battered through the freaks’ intransigence—but it could wait. Everything could. She’d be damned if she’d dilute his achievement with anything negative. After her reaction earlier where she’d thrown him out, she felt ashamed.
Cursing herself for cowardice, she faded back through the open door as three more lights flashed white on the screen. Everyone fist pumped the air and cheered louder. Amid their joy, she turned to retrace her steps.
“Faith!” Reg’s voice sounded behind her, and she stopped dead.
She tried to talk, but her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. She didn’t dare turn around or look up. What would she see in his eyes? Anger? Pity? His energy drew closer as he covered the distance between them. If she could’ve leveraged kinetics to beam herself out of there, she would have, but those things only happened on television.