Authors: L. J. Kendall
Harmon's heart did not melt. Not quite.
As he laid his hands on the animal, the joy that instantly suffused Leeth, making her arms and legs tremble in excited hope, seemed to bathe him in a curious warmth.
Positioning both hands against the worst injury, then, where the forward weapons pod on the left shoulder appeared to have been partially torn from its seamless meld with the animal's flesh, he moved his perception to the Imaginal and cast the spell.
This was going to be difficult…
Half an hour later, Harmon slumped back, exhausted, against the cold lawn. When he'd finally turned the tide and the dog's heart and lungs had started pumping once more, it had whimpered, in dreadful pain. Leeth had simply stared at him from across the body of her friend, her eyes saying it all. Leeth had stretched out, pressing herself carefully alongside her friend, whispering words in her ear.
She didn't let him finish until Faith could stand under her own power.
'Call Mr Shanahan, Faith. Call him, go on.'
A red light began blinking on her collar. Thirty seconds later, they heard Brian Shanahan in the distance running and shouting. 'Faith! Can ye hear me, girl?
Faith!
I'm coming! I'm coming, girl, hang in there!'
'It's okay, Mr Shanahan,' Leeth called out to him, restraining Faith before she could re-injure herself as she fought to go to him. 'Uncle saved her! She's okay!'
Shanahan's knees plowed into the lawn as he slid to a stop beside them, and soon the three of them were a laughing, crying,
licking
bundle of three-way joy.
Harmon, lying beside them watching, had to smile despite himself. Then Leeth flung herself onto him, hugging him too. 'Oh, Keepie, Keepie, you did it. You're wonderful! I love you so much!'
Shanahan and Leeth together carried the cyber dog back to his security out-building, Leeth explaining to her the whole way that Mr Shanahan had a supply cabinet full of spare parts waiting, saved specially for her. Harmon staggered along in the rear.
He quite welcomed Leeth's support when they left to make their own way back inside, together.
Surely, she had no more surprises for him. Surely, now, they could all rest?
Chapter 58
As Disten rounded the next bend, ahead on the winding country lane, a pair of iron gates swung into view, glowing brightly under the vehicle's headlights.
The girl awaited, through those gates. Behind the wall from which the borealis display had lit the night sky, not five minutes before.
Getting out of the vehicle, Disten read the sign:
Institute for Paranormal Dysfunction
DANGER – KEEP OUT
Authorized personnel only
Looking left and then right, there was no intercom system; no means to call to request entry.
No matter. The bars on the gate would be no obstacle.
The instant the barrier was touched, however, a massive flare of red auroral light flashed up in a huge arc lacing into the night sky.
Disten blinked.
It was dark. Hard bitumen pressed from below. Some unknown portion of time appeared to have passed.
Disten sat up, feeling dampness in the hair at the back of the head. Ahead, the vehicle idled, blocking the view of the wall. Puzzled, feeling oddly disoriented while standing back upright, the fingers were examined in the wash from the headlights. Blood.
Disten moved up to the car, vision shifting strangely.
Concussion.
The pull, a savage hook through the spine, was gone. Ahead, through the gates and past the wooded area, bright light flared, the rumble of an explosion following a moment later.
Disten approached the gate once again, then turned back from there, to where consciousness had been regained. Calculated a trajectory, that crossed over the vehicle.
Behind, another flash of light followed by the sound of another explosion.
The girl was gone. Again.
Disten climbed back into the car, considering the head wound. Medical treatment would be wise. As would removal of evidence.
Reversing the car around, Disten got out with a bottle of water, eyeing the blood on the road, illuminated in the powerful headlights. Poured the water. Then re-entered the vehicle and set the destination to New Francisco.
The Institute for Paranormal Dysfunction.
The girl, or spirit, appeared to be connected to it. It would bear future investigation.
And the girl. Whose body had been examined, as she lay dead in an alley. Gone again, now. But death did not appear to stop her.
That was good. She would come again.
And when next she emerged, she would be taken, and Perfected. And together they would communicate that Perfection to all humanity.
Chapter 59
At 7:55am the next day, Leeth stood grimacing as her uncle ripped through her wardrobe, finding something “more suitable” for her to wear for their meeting with the Director.
She finished adjusting her bra and picked up the ultra-thin black clothing he'd gone red at when he'd opened her door.
'But I spent, like, half an hour cutting parts away so the holes look deliberate! What about now that I've put on underwear? Can't I just-'
Her uncle turned, thrusting black denim jeans and a white blouse with collar and buttons into her hands, removing the remnants of her ninja suit and tossing it behind him. 'No. And we now have less than five minutes. Get. Dressed.'
He continued lecturing her as she quickly shrugged into the top and wriggled into the jeans. She got it that she was in trouble; but she
shouldn't
be.
They
were the ones who were wrong, not her. 'And I wasn't trying to seduce Professor Sanders! I was just trying to look good.'
She heard her uncle's teeth grinding.
'Well, why didn't you tell me before, that men liked seeing-'
He pushed her toward the door. 'Yes, Leeth, I see now I should have, but let's leave that discussion for some other time.'
In the end, they arrived right on time anyway, so he hadn't needed to make such a fuss.
Though Professor Sanders's “Come in” didn't sound as welcoming as usual. Maybe she
had
better be careful.
'Sara.' For long seconds, the Director just looked at her. 'What are we going to do with you?'
She bristled, but kept waiting. They didn't need to
do
anything with her. They
needed
to let Godsson free!
'Do you understand that what you did was wrong?
Very
wrong?'
For a moment, she considered lying, but that wouldn't help Godsson.
'Why? What's he ever done wrong? Except save everybody?'
At her side, her uncle made a small noise, and Professor Sanders sat back, his bushy white eyebrows flashing upward. 'Dear me.' He looked from her to her uncle, then back to her. 'He did kill two people. I thought you had been shown the footage?'
'No,
She
turned two people into monsters to kill
him
, and
he
killed the monsters!'
His mouth opened, then shut. She wanted to press her attack, but sometimes it was best to let your opponents make mistakes.
Professor Sanders looked from her, to her uncle. 'You know, in light of what we've learned, she does have a point, Alex.'
Yes!
For a moment, she thought she'd convinced Professor Sanders. Until his next words. Frowning, he turned back to her.
'But Godsson is criminally insane, Sara. He has harmed other carers who entered his cell for a routine health check, before we learned the necessity to avoid that. He believes he is a Son of God, two thousand years old, and that he has some mission to “save” humanity from itself. He is one of the most powerful mages in the world today, and he is
completely delusional
.'
Sara frowned. 'Well, yeah, sometimes-'
'So he is powerful, insane, and certainly a great danger to those around him. Even when he is alone, there is one monster in that cell. He acts on whims, triggered by thought processes that make little sense to us… and for those reasons he is being legally held here. Do you understand what
that
means?'
'Well, yeah, it means he needs friends, so he can show everybody he's
not
dangerous.'
Professor Sanders stared at her like she'd just said something stupid. She looked at her uncle, but he had his eyes scrinched shut and was squeezing the bridge of his nose.
'No, Sara.' She looked back at the Director, who was looking sorry. 'It means that breaking him out of his cell was a criminal act. It was against the law. Do you understand? Even if you disagree with the law, you can't simply ignore it. That's not how it works. Has your uncle not taught you that?'
If he thinks that about just letting Godsson out, what would he think about killing sheep?
I
definitely
better lie, this time!
'Well, yeah, of course.'
She heard her uncle breathe in, only then realizing he'd been holding his breath.
Huh? He'd been worried I was about to say how it was just there to protect the sheep?
Why would he be worried by that? Unless… was the
Professor
a sheep?
Whoa!
What would
that
mean…?
But aloud, all she said was, 'I just thought, well, if we just
showed
everybody that Godsson was nice, and wouldn't hurt them, then they'd have to change their minds.'
'That's irrelevant. What you did is called a prison break, Sara. It's illegal. You broke the law. Now, it appears that you hadn't realized that; nor do we wish to advertise what almost happened here.' Professor Sanders looked regretful. 'But the facts are that you entered a secure cell and freed an insanely dangerous lunatic. Your rash actions could easily have proven utterly catastrophic. It would still cause a major political incident if news ever leaks out.'
'So you
need
me not to tell anyone!'
Professor Sanders suddenly didn't look either kindly or harmless, at all.
'Don't try that route, Sara. Seriously. The stakes in this game are far higher than you understand. And if you did speak out, the consequences for yourself, for Godsson, for this country and even the world could be terrible. Do not dream of threatening to do that.
'Let me speak clearly: if you try again to release Godsson, you will go to jail and you will stay there. For a very, very long time. I am not joking.'
She'd never seen Director Sanders like this. He looked a completely different person. His eyes bored into hers, but she refused to look away.
'Do you see? Do you understand now? Regardless of whether you think it's fair or unfair, Godsson must remain here. Only if the courts one day decide he should be released, would that ever be permitted.'
Still he stared.
'Is that clear enough?'
'Yes.'
'Good. But I also want your promise. I want you to promise me you won't attempt to release Godsson again.'
He clearly wanted her to agree. But she thought carefully about what he'd just said, and had to shake her head. 'Uh-uh. I can't promise that. If I promised that, I couldn't even try just to
convince
people they should let Godsson free.'
Sanders blinked. Then smiled. 'Very well. I don't wish to stop you advocating on his behalf, to those few who know he is here. Promise me this, instead: that you will only attempt to seek Godsson's release through legal means.'
She thought about that. Then took a deep breath and let it gust out. 'All right.'
The Director just looked at her like he knew that hadn't been a promise, and she scowled. 'Oh, all right: I promise I'll only try to get Godsson freed
legally.
Okay?'
The Director sighed. 'Yes. Let's shake on that.' He stood up.
It was strange, shaking the Director's hand. He had a nice grip. Firm. They let go, and she stepped back. Feeling somehow more grown up.
'Very well, Sara, that will be all for now. Please leave us, while I discuss things with your uncle.'
The two men watched her leave the room, closing the door carefully behind her. Harmon went to speak, but Sanders put up a finger to stop him, and looked at the display projected up from his desk, shaking his head. '
Intercom
: Sara, I'd prefer you to wait elsewhere for your uncle.'
He waited, then looked at Harmon. 'She has Unfolded, Alex, hasn't she? Into what? What are her abilities?'
Harmon considered denying it. 'I think she has
begun
to Unfold, yes. I believe she has further potential.' Sanders waited for him to continue. 'To be honest, I'm not sure
what
she is.'
Sanders considered that. 'Well, it must still be very pleasing for you. Your theories vindicated, at long last. Especially given the circumstances. I assume you plan to publish, eventually? Will you let me review your paper?'
Harmon inclined his head, just a little stiffly, and Sanders sighed. 'So. To business. Your position here-'
Harmon interrupted. 'What of Sara? What's going to happen to her?'
Professor Sanders looked regretful. 'I don't know, Alex.'
Harmon started to respond. 'But surely, she's only seventeen, we can-'
'Seventeen? Yes, I can see the headlines now.'
Harmon fumed but could hardly deny the point.
'All I can say at present is that the investigation is still underway and no decision has yet been made. I doubt she will be allowed to stay, however. And I dare say your own position here, especially as Godsson's therapist, is probably no longer tenable. Bashing one's patient unconscious is likely to have that consequence, you know.'