No Such Thing (33 page)

Once the ship-borne GenTec were neutralized, she returned the soldiers to their transport, and then returned the transport to its fleet, taking a moment to
disable it as well. Then she turned her attention to the problem of the telenetics. "Declan, I’m going to need a secure section of the station
to hold these three."

When she got no answer, she glanced around to see the crew staring at her with varying levels of shock and awe.

Declan faced the array of drifting ships with his arms folded and a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. "I’d forgotten," he
muttered. "I thought I’d remembered how amazing you are, but I didn’t really. Goddamn, Ryelle."

"I’ll second that," Pete wheezed, leaning carefully against the rail. "I saw vids of Mirabella, but Sweet Mother, it ain’t
the same. You—you just…"

Ryelle sighed. "Focus, please. I’ve got three dangerous children I need to contain. How large is your medical unit?"

Declan turned to her with a frown. "Not large enough. We’d still need access for station personnel."

"No isolation ward?"

He shook his head. "We can clear out a storage room."

"Might work," she responded, heading for the door. "I’m off to meet our visitors."

"I’ll come with you," Declan said with a dark undertone to his voice.

Ryelle studied him as they left operations together. "Don’t trust me to handle it alone, Master Chief?" she asked quietly.

His face tightened and he shot her a quick glance that looked like regret. "I’m sorry, Ryelle," he said when they were alone in the
corridor. "I should have remembered what you could do. But…" He shook his head, mouth thinning. "These are people I care about and
you’re not infallible."

"True enough," she said mildly, while her chest cramped with hurt.

They walked silently for a moment, before Declan sighed and caught her elbow, pulling her to a halt and turning her to him. "It’s not that I
don’t trust you, honey. Thinking about anybody I care about in danger makes me nuts. That includes you, y’know."

She looked into his solemn gaze and felt a gooey smile try to sneak across her lips.
Pathetic.
It’s not like he was declaring his undying
love. "How are you doing this?"

He lifted his eyebrows. "What?"

"You’ve got to be feeling my ability, but you’re not tackling me. I’m both impressed and disappointed."

He chuckled, moving her along the corridor again with a hand still at her elbow. "Lots of practice. I’m getting used to it. Plus, you wore me
right the hell out last night."

"Getting used to it?" There was a sinking in her stomach. "Does that mean you don’t want—"

He stopped abruptly, yanking her around and pressing her against the wall, showing her with his demanding mouth and the hardness of his body that he was
still very much affected by her. When he lifted his head, he growled, "Hell, yes, I still want. Just getting better at controlling myself."

This time she let the sappy smile have its way, curling her fingers in his uniform. "Mmm, I’d say sorry, but I’m not."

He made a rough sound in his throat and pushed away from her, a gleam of heated amusement in his eyes. "Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got work to
do."

Her happy glow lasted until they reached the corridor where she had immobilized the children. Then the warmth seemed to drain out of her entirely. They had
been caught in mid-stride, eyes wide and faces stiff as they stared at her. She felt her stomach churn and she grimaced at her own handiwork, terrorizing
children in the line of duty.

"Hell, they look almost normal," Declan muttered at her side.

And they did. Two males and a female, they looked to be about the same age, roughly eight or nine years old. One boy was slightly taller and could have
been a bit older. They all wore the same outfit, a high-necked, long-sleeved, greenish-gray tunic with matching slacks. Other than ebony dark skin and
black eyes with no whites around the pupils, they seemed to have all the usual human characteristics. They looked strangely frail to Ryelle’s eyes.

"How odd," Ryelle murmured, remembering her own experience with GenTecs—a face with no mouth or nose and another with hard, plated skin.
Shaking off the disturbing memory with a shrug of her shoulders, she stepped forward and addressed her prisoners. "I am Telenetic Ryelle Soliere.
This is Master Chief Engineer Declan McCrae, head of this station. May I know your names?"

If anything, their eyes widened further and they quivered in her hold like leaves in a storm.

"You are the Death Dealer of Mirabella," the tallest boy said, his voice thin but quavering with defiance. "The Sun Stealer. Why are you
here?"

She heard Declan draw a sharp breath at the titles, but she didn’t look at him. She tilted her head, studying the boy intently. "Luck brought
me here. Good luck for us, bad luck for the GenTec. Why are
you
here, little man?"

He didn’t answer.

She glanced at the other two with raised eyebrows, but they kept silent also. "Shall I guess?" she said gently. "You are telenetic, but
the GenTec have no experience with raising and training such talents. You’re here to acquire a teacher."

The smallest boy twitched, but that was their only response. The unrelieved midnight of their eyes disconcerted her.

"So what do you suggest I do with you?" she asked them.

"Kill us," the tall boy said with flat finality.

"Because we will kill you when we can," the girl added in a soft, almost sweet voice.

"We aren’t defective," the small boy finished in a sullen mutter with a hint of a scowl on his dark face.

"Defective," Ryelle mused in a thoughtful tone, linking her fingers together and studying them with as much calm as she could muster. That cold
kill us
still reverberated in her mind, sending chills down her spine. "Are you sure about that? You failed your objective here. And you
look very much like your ancestral humans instead of the enhancements the GenTec so admire and revere. Doesn’t that make you defective?"

The small boy jerked in her hold, ebony eyes blazing dark fire at her. "We didn’t fail! You weren’t supposed to be here! And we only look
like this ‘cause—"

The tall boy made a hissing sound and the little one subsided with a sidelong glower at his companions. The girl had her lips pressed tightly together,
eyes aimed at Ryelle’s feet.

Ryelle made a noncommittal sound in her throat then separated her fingers and spread her hands in an open gesture. "Well, I don’t plan to kill
you, so I suggest we retire someplace more comfortable. I have a feeling this discussion is going to take a while and we’d get awfully tired standing
around here." She planted her hands on hips and gave them a considering look. "If I free you to walk on your own, will you behave?"

The tall boy and girl exchanged a sidelong glance, before the boy said, "We will," in a much too agreeable voice.

Ryelle nodded and turned her back before she allowed herself to smile at the response.

Declan was looking at her like she’d lost her mind. "
Free
them?" he asked in a low, incredulous voice.

"Trust
me?" she asked in return with lifted eyebrows and wry smile.

He took a deep breath and nodded, expression grim as he looked at the children over her shoulder.

"All right, kids. Follow the leader." She released them and began to walk, taking no more than two steps before she felt their concerted
attack. With a sigh, she immobilized them once more and floated them along after her in a neat row, not acknowledging their rebellion in any other way.
"I imagine your—parents?—will be concerned for your whereabouts and well being, but we need to talk before I chat with them. If
you’re hungry or thirsty, just let me know, and we’ll do our best. Though I have to confess, the food on this station is…less than
stellar. On the other hand, MCE McCrae here makes a mean milkshake." She sent a wink to Declan, but he just stared at her.

"Where are you taking them?" he asked with deep suspicion in his voice.

"My rooms," she answered as casually as she could but slid her gaze away from his with an inner wince of anticipation.

He grasped her upper arm in a tight grip and gave her a little shake. "You are not taking them to the residential area. I’ll get a storage room
cleared—"

"Meanwhile, we stand in the corridor and twiddle our thumbs? I want to sit and try to have a normal conversation with these children.
Children,
Declan. Who, by the way, are expecting me to kill them any second now. I think they’d be more receptive in a comfortable
setting."

"Receptive to what?" Still suspicious.

She gave him a brilliant smile and said nothing. He glowered at her and paused at a com unit. She didn’t pause with him but heard his crisp orders to
clear a storage area and prep it for residential use. The corridors were thankfully deserted—the telenetic children would have a terrorizing effect
on the station occupants.

When they reached her quarters, Ryelle entered with the children floating behind and Declan bringing up the rear. She could hear him muttering ominously
but pretended to be deaf, placing the children with gentle care on a couch together. Their eyes were wide as they stared at her, little bodies stiff with
tension. She released her hold on them and smiled.

"So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?"

"So you can poison us?" the tall boy asked harshly.

Ryelle turned her laugh into a cough, holding a hand in front of her mouth to hide her smile as she sat across from them. "Why do you think I’d
poison you?"

"Or drug us," he said in a defensive tone, looking offended at her amusement. "To get what you want."

"I don’t want anything from you."

"Than why haven’t you killed us?"

"I don’t kill children," she said in a gentle voice, humor draining from her. "I suppose I’ve been painted the villain, the
murdering monster of Mirabella by your parents. Or creators, or whatever. The truth is I regret what I did. I feel as though I should have found another
way to stop your people and end the war. I’m grateful to you, because I feel like I’ve been given a second chance."

Declan made a rough sound from his vigilant stance by the door, but he said nothing. The girl flicked him a glance, but the boys didn’t look away
from Ryelle. None of the three seemed any more relaxed or receptive.

Ryelle sighed. "May I know your names? You can make some up, if you like. I’d just rather not resort to Boy One, Boy Two, and Girl. Or Larry,
Curly, and Moette."

Declan muttered something that didn’t sound appreciative of her sense of humor. None of the children seemed to get it. They glanced at one another
with furtive determination before they attacked her telenetically again. She caged them again, though she allowed movement within a small space around
them.

"Then I’ll name you," she stated as if nothing had happened. She was sure Declan hadn’t noticed a thing. She considered them
thoughtfully for a moment then pointed at the girl. "Rose." The tall boy. "Daniel." The smallest one. "And…Jake. Will
that suit you?" Silence. "Fabulous," she said dryly. "You all look about the same age. Can I know how old you are?"

This time when they looked at one another, there was uncertainty in the lines of their young features.

"We…aren’t allowed to know," Daniel answered reluctantly.

She blinked at them. "Ah. Accelerated growth?"

"We should not be speaking to her at all," Rose whispered to Daniel. The tall boy pressed his lips together grimly, but Jake glowered at his
knees and said, "They didn’t tell us what to do if we got caught. I’m thirsty." Rose nudged him with an admonishing elbow, but his
glower only deepened.

Ryelle rose to her feet. "I’ll get you all something to drink."

"We want nothing from you!" Daniel said, chin lifted in defiance.

"Oh, give over, kid," Declan snapped, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "She could squash you in a second.
If there was really something she wanted from you, she could hurt you until you begged to give it up. It’s stupid not to drink and eat while you
can."

Ryelle lifted her eyebrows at the implied threat of withheld sustenance but didn’t comment. Instead, she asked, "Declan, could you whip us up
some shakes? Chocolate should put us all in a better mood." She gave him a winning smile, to which he scowled but left without a word.

Ryelle sat back down and leaned toward the children with a conspiratorial air. "Before he comes back, I wanted to give you some idea of why I’m
talking with you instead of just locking you up like prisoners. I’m the Telenetic Institute’s Advocate for Telenetic Rights. This means I have
a responsibility to make sure that all telenetics have the care, education, and training they deserve, and are treated fairly and with respect under the
law. Previously, that has only applied to Central citizens, but you three are also telenetics. I can’t ignore the fact that I have a responsibility
to you as well.

"Your people and mine have been at war for a long time. The root cause, as I see it, is your people’s need to return to their ancestral home.
The problem my people have with that idea is the method the GenTecs have been using to return. I’ve got an alternative. You need a
teacher—I’m willing to be your teacher. You’ll be accepted into the Institute and the GenTec will have a foothold into one of the most
influential parts of our society. In essence, they’ll have a way home through you."

They stared at her with blank faces for a long moment. Then they stared at each other with blank faces.

Ryelle shifted in her seat and pursed her lips. "Too heavy on the drama?"

"You seem…unbalanced," Daniel finally ventured.

She laughed and sat back. "Declan tells me that all the time. Too much crazy-talk or too much adult-speak?"

The boy considered this carefully, studying her with his disconcerting ebony eyes. "Both. Why don’t you want the station head to know what you
said to us?"

"He’d freak. He takes a more traditional view of you and your people. He wouldn’t understand why I’m extending a friendly
hand."