Reckoning (5 page)

S
even blinked his eyes open, his neck an
d
shoulders stiff from the earlier workout. The physical exertion, the domination of his thoughts, they had both taken their toll. Seven was used to his master’s invasions and the endless brainwashing sessions by this point. The Creator demanded loyalty in all ways. Seven may have had to relinquish control, but that didn’t mean the feeling had become comfortable.

He unfolded his legs and shook them to life. He always meditated on the floor, something he’d learned in the time before the Creator groomed him, before his training. Before he knew about his gifts.

Seven thought about his early childhood  as a familiar darkness engulfed him. A small house. The sound of children laughing. No matter how hard he tried to pry the memories from his mind, he could never fully recall his life prior to the Creator. Seven clung to the fading images, the desperate reminder of his life before, a life lodged in the unreachable places of his thoughts.

Seven expelled a tight breath. He had meditated this morning to focus his mind, calm the impact of the earlier invasion. He couldn’t afford to go down this rabbit hole again.

He stood and remembered the images of the Assassin given to him by his Master. Seven was finally getting the chance to prove himself. He would find her. Whatever the Creator wanted from him, he would comply.

He had to.

Grabbing a small towel, Seven walked out of his room and down the long hallway toward a communal bathroom. He splashed water on his face and stared in the mirror. Worry etched in the lines of his face. Not only worry. Rage. His blond hair stood at out angles, resembling a lion’s mane. Seven pulled it back at the nape and secured it with a small elastic band. He stretched his still-stiff neck, his gaze fixated on the golden eyes staring back. The same worry and rage glinted across his pupils.

Images fresh from his meditation filled his thoughts: the gunmen and their feeble attempts to hunt the Assassin. They should have killed her in the shop. She was unaware, vulnerable. An easy target.

Why had she been so stupid?

Seven contemplated her behavior. Why hide for months and then be so careless? Did she think the Creator wasn’t watching? Did she mistake him for a fool? Could she really believe she was safe?

You’ll never be safe now
.

More images burned inside Seven’s mind: the precision and ease of the Assassin’s retaliation. She never looked at them when she attacked. Didn’t wait to ensure their deaths. Maybe the Creator was right. Despite the Assassin’s lack of training, she was strong. Gifted.

Deadly.

Doubt-filled rage crowded out the images. Seven’s jaw twitched as his eyes narrowed, lost in his own thoughts. “I won’t let you win,” he said to the reflection in the mirror, his mind focused only on his unseen enemy. “You. Won’t. Win!” Seven’s hands fisted. He smashed his reflection and the glass shattered, falling in razored shards against the tiled sink. He released a feral scream and walked back to his room.

Raw emotions clung to his skin as he paced the small space. Back and forth. Back and forth. A hunter stalking his prey. Anticipation prickled his skin. He had to get out and start his mission. The sooner the better.

It’s time
.

The Creator’s voice filled his mind. Seven released a strangled breath as a smile curved his lips.

Find her. Watch her. Find out who she’s with, how she’s training. Report back everything. Report, but do not attack her. Not yet
.

“Yes, my master,” Seven said, his voice monotone. He grabbed a small, black backpack and hiked it over his should. Anxiety and excitement mixed in equal proportion as he left his room.

Seven reached the end of the compound. Pain stabbed at his temples, stopping him. His hands grabbed at his scalp. His vision blurred.

“You cannot leave before we speak.”

The familiar voice erupted a trail of goose bumps across Seven’s arms.

More pain shot through his mind. Water pricked behind his eyes as he struggled to push his emotions aside.

“This is not a request. We must speak.”

Seven couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. He only knew who it belonged to—

The Order.

How? Why?
The questions formed in Seven’s thoughts before he could stop them. He’d never been summoned by a member of the Order. He didn’t know how to communicate with them other than through the projection screens in the Master’s office. He didn’t know how they had managed to communicate with only him.

“The screens. Now.”

The pain subsided as the voice faded. Seven turned back toward the compound and the Creator’s office. For a moment, he wondered if this was nothing more than a trick designed by his Master to confirm loyalty; a strange and twisted training exercise. He walked across the courtyard and debated with himself. If this was a trick, the Creator would lose faith in him. If the Order was commanding him, noncompliance would be dealt with harshly. Either way, Seven knew his life was about to get worse.

Much worse.

He hesitated outside his master’s office. The door was open, the room empty. Seven slinked into the office and closed the door. Shielding his thoughts, he padded across the room to his Master’s desk. Seven had seen the Creator activate the projection screens in the past. He opened the center drawer and pushed a hidden button in the center of the drawer. A console opened across the desk revealing more buttons. He hesitated.

What if I’m wrong,
he thought.
What if this is a mistake?
A jolt of white-hot pain shot through his temples. Seven grunted as his body stiffened. He had his answer. Compliance wasn’t optional.

Seven pushed the buttons in rapid succession. Within moments, five black screens dropped from hidden openings in the ceiling. One by one, the screens illuminated. Pixels fused and formed images of each member of the Order.

Seven’s breath caught in his throat. He had never met the members of the Order. He’d never even seen all of them. He only knew that the Creator didn’t trust them.

Maybe he shouldn’t trust them either.

Seven blinked his thoughts away and stowed his emotions. His gaze raked across the projected images from left to right: a man with heavily wrinkled tea-colored skin. His teeth were sparse, his eyes bright. In the next projection stood a woman with ebony skin. Her golden eyes gave her the appearance of a leopard.

The next screen held a face he knew too well—the woman who visited the compound. The one his Master distrusted the most. She had small, dark eyes that held no emotion. Glossy black hair framed her face. In her hand was a small device that resembled a remote control. The woman gave the impression of being the leader. Seven knew she held much power within the Order. Little was ever said or done without her knowledge.

The last two screens held images of gray-haired men in white lab coats. Quiet and disinterested, these two appeared to be here by obligation.

Seven swallowed hard. The Order had come. To speak to him without his Master’s knowledge.

This wasn’t going to be good.

“You summoned me?” Seven’s voice sounded more like a nervous schoolboy than a well-trained psychic warrior.

“Yes,” the familiar woman said. “You’ve been tasked with finding LeMercier’s pet project, correct?” The disdain in the woman’s voice was unmistakable.

“Yes,” Seven replied. He could understand why his Master distrusted her.

“Was that the extent of your orders?”

Seven secured his thoughts. He didn’t want to reveal too much. He wasn’t about to betray the Creator.

“Well?” the woman asked again, the words barely able to escape her clenched teeth.

Seven remained silent. Immediately his head felt like it would explode. He grabbed at his temples with both hands as water blurred his vision.

“Your compliance is not a choice,” the woman said. She held up the small device. “You will answer me or I will turn your brain into mush.”

Seven’s eyes widened.

“Oh, is see. He didn’t tell you.” A malicious smile covered the woman’s face, reaching up to her eyes. “There is a failsafe chip embedded in your brain. The Order’s condition to funding LeMercier’s little projects. We didn’t want more disasters like the first versions of these experiments. We insisted on a way to control his
pets
, destroy them if needed. Now, I’ll ask you again, what else did he order you to do?”

Seven watched her finger hover dangerously close to buttons on the device. He focused his thoughts and swallowed hard. Locking his gaze to hers, he drew a picture of his own brain inside his mind. He saw each nerve ending, saw how they lit whenever she tapped on the buttons. One by one, Seven imagined his nerves quieting, dulling. The woman continued to tap on the buttons, but each tap brought less pain, less impact to his nerves. It was working, he was controlling his mind.

For now.

Sweat beaded on his brow. He couldn’t hold off the pain much longer. He felt his control falter.

The woman tapped the button. More pain exploded across his mind.

Seven weakened. He closed his eyes and took a breath.

“The next button I push ends you.” No emotions registered on the woman’s face.

Seven tried to reach into her thoughts. Nothing. He had no choice. “He only wanted me to find her and report back.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Nothing more?” The woman’s gaze narrowed.

Seven shook his head, too weak to speak.

“We have additional orders for you. The Assassin is never to return to LeMercier. You must kill her.”

Seven felt the color drain from his face. “But—”

“Kill her or we kill you,” said the leopard-like woman.

“I won’t betray him. I can’t.” Seven’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

“We know about your past, Seven. The time before you came here.” The low voice came from the wrinkled man. His voice sounded thin, papery. Like his skin. “We can tell you about your childhood, give you the reason you need to get away from LeMercier and serve us. Or we can kill you.” The man smiled and Seven’s skin turned to gooseflesh.

The screens faded, all but the center one. The woman, the leader. “Kill the Assassin. Kill her and we will give you the information you want. The memories you crave. We will fill in the missing pieces of your memory.” The screen began to fade. “Fail us and you will die.”

The grip around Seven’s skull released as the screens returned to their hidden alcoves. Seven slunk to his knees.
Kill her or we kill you. We know about your past
. The words looped through his thoughts.
We can give you your memories
.

Seven swallowed hard. He left the office and stowed away his emotions deep within his mind. Forming a picture of the Assassin, he embraced his mission.

Both of them.

The Solomon Experiments 3.0

The Order

Dr. Benjamin LeMercier’s Personal Journal –

March 5, 2015:

The experiments are progressing nicely. Seven continues to make progress. He reminds of the Assassin, though I remain unsure whether or not he will ever match her skills. Regardless, he has something the Assassin does not—complete loyalty to me. I am his family, the only one he has ever known. He does whatever I ask. He always will.

The Order is on board with my plans for Seven and the Architect. They believe it was their idea. Just as I had orchestrated.

They don’t see the larger goal. They never have. They can’t. Their minds are too concerned with the status quo—their power and wealth. They don’t see that there is more at stake, more to gain. Through these experiments we can change the balance of power in the world. Forever. Their short-sighted views of power are insignificant compared to my larger goal. They lack the vision to see it. They lack the trust to let me guide them there.

So, I will play along with their ideas for now. I will allow them to dictate terms and manipulate them into giving me what I want. I will let them order me to use the Architect to bring the Assassin home. I will follow
their
plans to groom Seven. I will be . . .

Weak.

My true vision is never far from my thoughts. Seven and the Assassin will learn to combine their skills and fight as a pair. Together, they will form the foundation of the army I have longed to create, the one I envisioned in the wake of the Cold War. Together they will train more warrior teams. My army will be an unbeatable force.

The Order would never approve. They made their funding contingent upon their ability to control Seven and any others I create. As if explosive devices, even those placed in the temporal lobe, could ever stop my warriors. I need the Order for now. So I have complied with their requests. Seven and the others have been tagged.

The Order doesn’t know that Seven will never be controlled by them. He can beat that device. His loyalty to me is above question.  He will be controlled by no one but me. The Order is naive to believe otherwise.

But they will learn soon enough.

The Assassin will come. She and Seven will link their powers and learn to fight as a team. And they will receive their first mission—

Kill the Order.

Not at once, however. Not a simple assassination.

First they will eliminate the Order’s wealth and power. Eradicate the control they think they have over me and these experiments. The Order may think they are in control right now. But the days of their power are limited. I am in charge.

Only me.

And one day I will remind them.