Rosabelle 28 #2
The mother established the pilot programs dedicated to human experimentation and genetic modification.
Evie Sommers used her children in the human trials necessary to further her own research, and in the end, she and her husband were slaughtered by the experiments they’d engineered.
The results were conclusive: organic human vehicles had proven unstable, unpredictable, and impossible to control.
The Reestablishment learned a valuable lesson.
This is why Klaus was created. Unsentimental; inhuman; synthetically produced.
I lift my eyes to Warner.
“I don’t trust you,” I say softly. “You may not be my overt enemy, but I have no faith in your ability to organize. I don’t think you’re capable of doing what needs to be done. Your people are weak. Your minds are weak. You have no idea what you’re up against, and we’re out of time.”
Warner’s eyes darken.
“Even if I could teach you more about what to expect,” I go on, “I don’t believe you’d survive beyond taking your first steps onto the Ark. That makes you a liability. Accepting your help would be to accept a death sentence. I will not agree to cooperate. I have no choice but to go over your head.”
“You have a shockingly low opinion of me,” he says, his expression softening into amusement. “You don’t seem to realize that admitting you think me incapable only draws attention to your own incompetence. Most people wouldn’t risk such speech for fear of being labeled an idiot.”
My lips part in astonishment, anger searing me from within. “I am not an idiot—”
“You think you know better than all of us?” He tilts his head at me. “You think your narrow experience on the Ark and your limited knowledge of Klaus make you qualified to carry out unilateral decisions on behalf of an entire nation—hundreds of millions of people—”
“The nation in question,” I say coldly, “comprises hundreds of millions of people who live in a state of chaos so poorly managed I’m astonished you have working trade routes and functional plumbing.” I pause. “I’m assuming you have functional plumbing.”
Warner smiles, but his eyes are cold. “Careful, Rosabelle. You’re unraveling. I can almost see your face beneath that mask.”
These words strike me unguarded.
Fear unfurls in my chest, mortification quickening through me. I’m struggling to hold these shields up well enough around him.
I never look at Warner this much.
He looks too much like James.
“I am qualified,” I say, regrouping, my fists clenching. “And I’ve already told you more than enough of my plans. I need that vial, and I need to return to the Ark, and that should be enough for you.”
“No.”
I stare at him, thrown. “You can’t say no to me. I’m not a child.”
“And I am not your pawn,” he says. “If you thought I would risk our sovereignty just to placate your unfounded sense of sanctimony, you made a poor calculation. I’ve been patient with you.
I am willing to work with you. But I will not relinquish control of this situation to a naive, untested assassin—”
“Naive?” My eyes widen. “Untested?”
“You were built for solitude,” he says. “Single missions.
You don’t know what it means to go to war.
You don’t understand how to work with a team.
I don’t care how many hours you’ve logged running sims; you’ve never scented the rotting earth of a battlefield.
You have no experience with wholesale slaughter.
You are not battle-hardened. And you don’t get to make decisions for my world. ”
My anger sparks. “I’ve seen the workings of your feckless world,” I say acidly. “And its leadership is questionable at best. I think you could use a second opinion.”
Warner shakes his head. A dark smile flickers and fades across his face.
“What do you know about leadership?” he says. “What could you possibly understand about the infinite arrows aimed at my head every day, or the endless challenges of trying to claw back all of civilization from the death grip of an authoritarian regime that seeks to enslave it?”
“More than you might imagine.”
His look is hard and pitiless. “You’re unfinished,” he says.
“You’re still young and foolish enough to believe you can fight the world on your own.
I was a lot like you once. Driven by my own anger, my own vendettas.
I understand too well how your mind operates, and it’s because I understand this mindset that I cannot allow it.
You will cooperate, or our deal is done. ”
Alarm rings through my body. “What deal?”
He crosses his arms.
“We have no deal,” I say, talking too much as a dull panic rises inside of me. “You have no leverage. I don’t need anything from you. You need me.”
Now, a flash of pity crosses his eyes.
My panic spikes.
“Rosabelle,” he says gently. “The moment you made that bargain with me you sealed your own fate.”
The spike intensifies.
“You delivered me your greatest weakness,” he says. “And you made a grave miscalculation. If you think I’d hesitate to use my own brother against you, you haven’t figured me out at all.”
My breath catches. “What are you talking about?”
“All I have to do is lift the restrictions,” he says to me. “Do you think he would hesitate to come find you?”
“Stop.” My heart is hammering now.
“Something happens to you when he comes near you, doesn’t it?”
I take a step back. “No,” I lie.
“Do you know anything about me, Rosabelle?” He cants his head. “Anything useful?”
In my mind, I reach for his file—
“No,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
“Something useful. Something more than my date of birth, my father’s name, my total kill count.
You probably know my origin story; my history with The Reestablishment.
You might not know that I have the ability to steal and manipulate the powers I sense around me. ”
I go still.
“What you definitely don’t know,” he says, drawing closer, “is that I can sense more than a person’s latent power. I have the ability to sense their emotions, too.”
This revelation strikes me across the face.
“You can’t even think too hard about my brother without losing your shield,” he says.
“Did you know that? When he’s not around, you might as well be dead.
When you’re thinking about him, I can almost tell you’re alive.
But when he gets close to you, your emotional state reactivates—so much so that you become nearly unstable.
It’s a fascinating phenomenon. Something I’ve never encountered.
And I admit it took me longer than it should have to figure it out. ”
I look away. My heart is beating so hard I feel dizzy.
“I thought you were dead inside, Rosabelle,” he says. “But that’s not true, is it?”