Chapter 10 Sylas #2
“Then we need someone who can speak to the science behind empathic development. Someone whose credentials the TCA can’t dismiss and whose testimony carries weight with both human and Zephyrian authorities.”
I consider the possibilities, running through lists of experts whose knowledge might counter TCA assertions about experimental contamination.
Most empathic researchers lack the cross-species expertise necessary to address hybrid development.
Those with relevant experience typically work for organizations that wouldn’t risk TCA displeasure by supporting colonial autonomy.
But there is one possibility.
“Dr. Sariah Cuzzort,” I say slowly, the name carrying implications that could change everything about our legal position.
“The geneticist who studies human-Zephyrian compatibility?”
“More than studying. She documents natural empathic development in hybrid children across multiple colonies. Her research proves that abilities like Aniska’s occur spontaneously in children with mixed heritage, regardless of parental enhancement.
” I pause, considering political ramifications that could complicate our request for assistance.
“Unfortunately, she also works for the TCA.”
“So, she might not be willing to testify against her own organization.”
“Or she might be exactly the witness we need. Dr. Cuzzort’s research contradicts TCA assumptions about empathic development. If she’s willing to present her findings honestly, her testimony could demonstrate that Aniska’s abilities represent natural progression rather than experimental anomaly.”
“Think she’ll help us?”
“I think she’ll help Aniska. Dr. Cuzzort has spent three years documenting the importance of stable family environments for hybrid children. She understands that research facilities can’t provide the emotional support necessary for healthy empathic development.”
Hada nods, her expression shifting from desperation toward something resembling strategic planning.
“So, we contact Dr. Cuzzort, get Elder Lunai’s support, gather medical documentation from Dr. Velanni, and prepare to demonstrate our empathic bond in front of people who think consciousness is just another research subject. ”
“That’s an accurate summary, yes.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan for saving our family.”
“Or destroying it completely if our arguments prove insufficient.”
“Then we make sure they’re sufficient.” She rises up on her toes to kiss me with fierce intensity, and through our empathic connection, I feel her emotional state solidifying around determination that leaves no room for defeat.
“Whatever it takes, however much we have to risk, we’re not losing her. ”
“No,” I agree, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “We’re not.”
The sound of Aniska stirring in her carrier reminds us that our daughter remains blissfully unaware of the legal storm gathering around her future.
She wakes with the peaceful contentment that has become our new normal, her empathic field radiating the kind of happiness that comes from being surrounded by people who love her unconditionally.
“Good morning, beautiful girl,” Hada murmurs, lifting Aniska with movements that have gained confidence over the past weeks. “Ready for another day of being perfect and amazing and absolutely not going anywhere with people who don’t understand how special you are?”
Aniska responds with gurgling sounds that might be agreement, her silver-flecked eyes focusing on Hada’s face with the intense attention she reserves for her favorite people.
Through our empathic connection, I feel the child’s contentment wash over both of us—pure trust that the adults in her life will continue providing the safety and love she needs to thrive.
“She doesn’t understand,” I observe.
“Good. She shouldn’t have to understand that there are people who would hurt her in the name of scientific advancement.
” Hada’s voice carries the kind of protective fury that makes me grateful she’s on our side.
“But she will understand that we fought for her. That we never gave up, never stopped believing she belonged with us.”
“Even if we lose?”
“We’re not going to lose.” Her eyes meet mine over Aniska’s head, blue and determined and full of faith I wish I could fully share.
“We’re going to prove that love creates better outcomes than clinical observation ever could.
We’re going to show them what healthy empathic development looks like when a child is raised by people who see her as precious rather than interesting. ”
“And if that’s not enough?”
“Then we find another way. But we don’t stop fighting, and we don’t let anyone convince us that bureaucracy matters more than family.”
I watch her hold our daughter with fierce protectiveness, and through our empathic bond, I feel the absolute commitment that drives every decision she makes.
Hada Blaxton would burn down the galaxy before letting anyone harm Aniska.
She would challenge every authority, defy every regulation, sacrifice everything she has to keep our family together.
Which means the TCA has no idea what they’re really up against.
“Forty-seven hours,” I say quietly.
“Forty-seven hours to save everything that matters.” She adjusts Aniska in her arms, and our daughter makes soft sounds of contentment that fill the room with empathic warmth. “Think we can do it?”
“I think we have to.”
“Good enough for me.”
The communication pad chimes with another incoming priority message, probably additional documentation in the TCA’s case against us.
Neither of us moves to answer it. For now, this moment is enough—the three of us together in the soft glow of Christmas lights and bioluminescent panels, holding each other against whatever storm is coming.
Tomorrow, we fight for our future. Today we remember why it’s worth fighting for.