Chapter 41 #2
A silence spread, allowing the rush of wind in the biodome to overshadow everything else. Were they communicating silently even when Iax had asked them not to? Wynn lifted her chin until she could see his expression. With the way he frowned, she could only guess so.
Facing them down, she waited another handful of seconds before saying, “I’ve had quite the week and traveled a long way, so let’s have it. Why did you send Iax to get me?”
She jerked against Iax when light flashed from above. The dead viewers held amongst the leaves and trees came to life, and the first of what Wynn saw stole the breath from her lungs.
Images, so many images, played above her: her personnel files, her schooling records, the newsreels of Foster’s death and the surrounding media storm.
But worst of all, they’d somehow gotten a hold of what had transpired on the Corvus. There was no other explanation for how the things she’d experienced in the white box, the lost memories of those other children, the forgotten time at the orphanage, could play on these screens.
She focused on one viewer in particular, the one where the children had been taunting her at the orphanage. It looked like they’d pulled it from her head, the details were so sharp. How was any of it possible?
Panic and pain surged within her. Iax’s hands stiffened on her shoulders, then shifted, until he hugged her to him, his arms under hers. She gladly accepted the embrace and gripped his hands.
“How did you get this?” she whispered, tearing her eyes away from the viewers to confront Briar Galloway. Had Iax somehow had a hand in it? He’d been able to show her those files from the hidden lab with just a thought. Was she right about this technology having a connection to Calypson abilities?
She turned slightly to ask Iax when Bondar answered the question.
“Transmissions exist as energy, and we intercept them.”
“Even this far out?” Wynn shook her head, realizing the question foolish. The transmissions would have had to travel to Sector Ten for them to receive those newsreels too.
But these feeds from the Corvus? They wouldn’t have sent them to just anyone. They would have been under layers of security and protocols. A spear of anger straightened Wynn’s spine.
“Okay, so you’re powerful. Very impressive. Why did you want me here?”
“Many reasons,” Wiseman said with a tip of his head. “But three stand out among them.”
When none of them expounded on that statement, Wynn’s frustration bubbled. “And those are?” She gestured with her hand for them to get on with it.
“You were no longer safe at your location.” It was Sweeney who spoke, but it didn’t matter. They seemed to work as one entity, one train of thought.
The feeds above her changed, focusing on the newsreels following Foster’s death. There were other things too, documents and communications with CORE insignias. Wynn squinted, but it was too far to see many details.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Multiple viewers showed images of her face during the time of her questioning after the incident.
Then Wiseman spoke. “The public nature of your colleague’s death brought attention to you that had otherwise remained dormant, including ours.”
More files materialized, then disappeared. One comm feed spread across multiple viewers, making it easier to understand. It was between a high-ranking CORE general and a man dressed in a science officer’s uniform, both of whom she’d never seen before.
We believe there is at least one on Earth, but we haven’t received confirmation yet. I’ll be contacting an agent for retrieval as soon as possible.
Make sure it’s your best agent. If she is one of them, we can’t afford to fuck it up.
Wynn’s heart lodged in her throat as she realized the two men were talking about her. The Four had sent Iax to stop an agent from taking her? She guessed she should be thankful for that, as bitter as the gratitude tasted at the moment.
“And the second reason?” she asked, her hands clenching Iax’s. He pulled her tighter against him, and it helped calm her some.
“We made a mistake.” This came directly from Galloway.
Wynn swallowed, her throat tight and dry. “What kind of mistake?”
A long silence pulsed, and she watched The Four, who held perfectly still, communicate. That was what they had to be doing despite Iax’s demand for verbal communication.
Galloway spoke again. “Twelve anomalies, like yourself, were born in a short span.”
Twelve. Now she knew how many had been on that ship with her. “And you sent us away.” She said it with an even tone, but her insides boiled.
“Yes. Your existence caused confusion and discord. We attempted many methods to manage you, but all failed.”
“Manage us,” Wynn repeated, the words tasting as dry as dirt.
There was a pause, then Galloway said with more feeling. “We admit our mistake. We are trying to fix it. Sector Ten is where you belong.”
So many questions hovered on the tip of Wynn’s tongue, but the next one seemed most important of all. “But why would you send us away?” Why hadn’t they cared enough? Why had they discarded children like space trash?
“We did not know how to attend to you,” Bondar answered.
“You were anomalies, your needs different from ours,” Sweeney added.
“None of you were content.” This came from Wiseman. “We failed in our efforts.”
Then Galloway finished with, “We believed sending you outward would unite you with others more like yourself, humans who could understand you.”
Iax’s arms flexed around her.
“Some of us were just babies,” Wynn whispered, the ache in her chest widening. She thought she would be angrier, more enraged to face this truth, but all she felt was profound sadness for all of them.
“Your emotions surged unpredictably.” Wiseman’s eyes glinted when he turned his head slightly. “It affected everyone, causing strife.”
“This is not contentment,” Bondar agreed. “We always strive for contentment, for tranquility.”
Frustration bubbled up her throat like a fount. “Life isn’t about contentment,” Wynn gritted. “It’s about love and loss and pain and pleasure.”
Behind her, Iax rested his chin on the top of her head, and gave her a small squeeze.
Wynn swallowed and went on. “No one is content a hundred percent of the time. That’s an impossible task.”
“Yet Calypsons would have achieved it. Except for the anomalies.”
“Sorry to break your perfect record.” That feeling of not fitting in, of being different, existed here too. Wynn guessed it would never be possible to shake, but at least she had Iax at her back.
What had happened to the others? Her stomach churned with dread. “How many have you collected so far?” She needed to meet them, to see with her own eyes that they were okay.
“You are the first,” Sweeney declared.
That dread morphed into a ball of terror. “But you know where they are, right? You said you’ve sent others.” Wynn dug her fingernails into Iax’s arms.
“We are searching.” This came from Galloway. “We are using all our resources to accomplish the task. We sent one of our kind to retrieve you.”
“Iax,” she said reflexively. “His name is Iax.”
The only response she received was the viewers above them lighting up again. The images were different: stars, and stations, and moons, and planets. Colonies. Then some interior views too, both CORE and Tellusian from the look of people’s clothing.
Was this everywhere they were searching right now? There were so many. At least twelve?
Wynn shook her head, unable to fathom having that many Calypsons sent out in the system searching at the same time.
After what had happened to her and Iax, it couldn’t end well.
She may have stopped Iax from commandeering an entire Guardian, but who would stop the others from making similar decisions?
One particular viewer caught her attention, an image of a baby just being born from the view of a doctor or nurse in the delivery room. It reminded Wynn of what she’d seen of her own lost memories.
She swallowed around the tightness in her throat and met Briar Galloway’s gaze head on. “You were there when I was born.”
The viewers flickered off one by one, their screens blank.
“Yes,” Galloway agreed, the word clipped. “I am present for all Calypson births.”
A momentary surge of relief spread through Wynn. It was quickly chased away when she realized she hadn’t asked the correct question, the one that would ease the insidious suspicion tormenting the back of her mind since her time in the white box.
“Did you give birth to me?” She almost choked on the question. “Are you my biological mother?”
A different sort of silence hung between them now that she’d voiced it. It shifted and strained against her body until she leaned most of her weight into Iax. It pulsed and throbbed, sounding hollow in her ears. She gripped his arms tighter.
Galloway shifted her weight, then spoke. “Yes.” The word was as loud as weapons fire, and as quiet as a whisper.
The wind in the space surged, echoing the emotions in Wynn’s chest. Her stomach dropped through the deck.
When she’d seen that memory, she had known it deep in her body, a profound truth her mind had rebelled against. To have it confirmed both horrified and freed her.
For a moment, it didn’t feel like she had solid mass, and her thoughts disconnected to crash into one another.
She stared at Galloway, unable to form words to express herself.
She’s a sociopath. To send a baby into space with barely anything at all, her own baby.
Wynn couldn’t grasp the thought properly, and panic welled in her throat.
She couldn’t control it. The foliage spun, mixing with the colors of the nebula beyond the biodome.
She couldn’t take a proper breath; her vision hazed black around the edges.
She reached for her marks, then paused when the memory of her adopted parents took the forefront of her mind.
Those were the people who had loved her, who had given her joy.
She would remember them as the amazing people they were.
The thoughts grounded her, giving her something to focus on besides the ugly truth.
She didn’t need scars when she had her memories.
Slowly, the haze cleared from her vision, and she stood in a room with four people who couldn’t feel enough.
Couldn’t care enough.
If she focused on that fact, she knew she would spiral more, so she concentrated on the memory of her parents’ love, embraced it until everything returned to razor-sharp focus. She would find a different way to honor them than leaving scars. The room settled around her.
Wynn took another deep, cleansing breath, then turned her head to gauge Iax’s reaction. “Did you know?” she asked quietly, only for him to hear.
“No.” His arms tightened around her. “And I am sorry.”
A defeated breath huffed out of her. It was Briar Galloway who should apologize.
Maybe this is her attempt to make amends.
Wynn pushed away that voice, not wanting to be charitable in this moment.
Everything was too much all at once: the escape from the Corvus, this place with its freaky plants, and all these revelations.
It overwhelmed when all she wanted to do was be alone with Iax, to find comfort and process these discoveries in private.
She lifted her chin, her jaw clenched. “Was that the third reason you brought me here?”
Another silence stretched, then Wiseman spoke. “No.”
His answer punched her in the chest, and the sensation of spiraling resumed until Sweeney added, “We need help with the anomalies.”
The statement returned her focus to Galloway. “You already said you sent people out to ‘collect’ them like you collected me. How can I help with that?”
Galloway tipped her head. “Not those anomalies. The others.”
Wynn’s heart surged in her throat, and she stepped forward. Iax’s arms dropped away from her. “There are more?” She stepped forward again. “More like me? Are we related? Siblings?” Another step. “Or just mutations of the Calypson gene?” And another. “Why are we different?”
Her voice had risen throughout her onslaught of questions, and when The Four stepped back in unison, she paused. “Where are they?” she insisted when none of them answered.
Galloway spoke after a long moment. “We have them contained.”
She delivered the statement with such matter-of-fact blandness that Wynn saw red. “You have them locked up? Like criminals? Like they’ve done something wrong?”
“It was either that, or send out another transport.”
Wynn clenched her fists, the urge to scream bubbling up her throat. But she had to be satisfied with the increasingly uncomfortable expressions on their faces.
“Lady,” she spat, “you’re a real piece of work. Take me to them. Now.”