consent.
âNothing can be salvaged?â
âIt may be possible,â she admitted. âHowever, in my opinion, it would be more effective to start from the very beginning. There were errors in the earlier prototypes I was unable to pinpoint. If I restart with those errors in mind, I may be able to eradicate them.â
âOf course.â Nikitaâs dark eyes were unblinking. Like a snakeâs. It was an apt comparison, given that Nikita was reputed to possess the deadly ability to infect other minds with mental virusesâan excellent, untraceable way of getting rid of competitors. âWhen can the Council expect a full update?â
âIâll send one this week, but it will simply be a detailed reiteration of what Iâve already indicated.â
âUnderstood. Iâll wait for that report.â Nikita clicked off.
Ashaya found nothing unusual in the Councilorâs ready agreement. As the head M-Psy on the team dedicated to the implementation of Protocol Iâalso known as the Implant ProtocolâAshaya had complete autonomy over research and development.
Their goal was simple: to develop an implant that could be fitted into all Psy brainsâbut with a focus on infantsâin order to create a totally unified society. In other words, a hive mind.
CHAPTER 6
By the time Talin made it up to her apartment, having no idea how long sheâd spent in the Jeep, her eyes were swollen, likely bloodshot. Tasting salt on her lips, she pressed her palm against the scanner beside her door, waited for the lock to disengage, then pushed the door open. The lights came on automaticallyâshe hated being in an enclosed space in the dark. Being outside in the dark didnât scare her. It was the sense of being shut in that got to herâand she didnât need a degree in psychology to figure out why.
Closing the door behind her, she took a step forward. And froze. At first, she couldnât comprehend what it was that she was seeing. Then it hit her in a stomach-churning rush, a kaleidoscope of color and destruction perfumed with the smell of death.
The intruders were gone, that much was obvious. But they had left their mark. She slid down the back of the door to collapse into a sitting position, unable to take her eyes off the message dripping down the opposite wall in a dark red that screamed with the iron-richness of blood.
Stop. Or youâre next.
What a stupid message, she thought, childish in its sniggering simplicity. But it worked. The chill of a visceral fear crawled up her body until it closed around her throat, making her want to gag. Still she didnât blink, didnât look away.
How dare they? How dare they!
She didnât care about the intrusion or the mess. Those things meant little to a woman who had never allowed any place to be home. But to do what they had done with the photos of her kids?
The holo-image frames had been crushed into the carpet, but they hadnât stopped there. The hard copies had been shredded, the pieces stuck into the blood creeping down the wall. That desecration she couldnât forgive. It made her want to scream and cry and crawl forward to gather up the broken pieces.
But she wasnât a fool. Though anguish and a bone-deep anger roiled in her gut, she didnât attempt to rescue those small things that meant so much to her. That was what they wanted, the monster or monsters who had taken and murdered the children under her care. They wanted to shred her credibility, turn her into a crazy woman no one would believe.
Well, fuck them.
Reaching for her cell phone, she began to press the keys. Only at the last second did she realize she was punching in the code for Clayâs office line. A different kind of nausea filled her mouth.
Taking several short breaths, loath to drag in the violated air of her apartment, she shook her head, cleared the screen, and pressed in a far more familiar code.
After leaving
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