Dark Genesis: The Birth of the Psi Corps (30 page)

“Give me the locations.”

“I won’t.”

Fiona snorted.

“Oh, yes you will.”

“No. What kind of life can you offer these kids? Always on the run, at risk of this same thing happening again? Out here, among the normals, our people will never be anything but victims.”

“And with Psi Corps we’ll never be anything but slaves.”

He shook his head.

“I pity you if you really believe that. This is what we do-protect teeps. Normals hate us. They’ll never see us as anything but something to use for their own ends. Psi Corps is the only place we can be safe, free. I won’t give you the locations.”

“We’ll tear them out of you.”

“You would do that to one of your own kind? Then everything they said about you fanatics is true.”

“Look-what’s your name?”

“Heckman. Claude Heckman.”

“Claude, I’ve been in the camps. I’ve seen what the sleepers do. I know what Psi Corps is, and I want no part of it. You can’t see it because they brainwashed you. You’re a good little soldier. But don’t expect me to buy any of it, okay? You take away people’s most basic human rights, and that opens the door to the kind of crap Rentech is doing. Nobody cares because teeps have no rights, and Psi Corps keeps it that way, makes it okay.”

“Psi Corps cares. I was almost killed proving that.” He raised his chin toward the sleeping children. “You talk about freedom. Ask them which they want. The freedom to be abused-or to be protected, cared about, among their own kind?”

“I’m not arguing this with you.”

“What will you do with me? After you fry my brain?”

Fiona watched the thick-footed rows of cypress go by for a while without answering.

“Here’s the deal,” she finally said. “You give us the locations for half and keep half. We hold on to you long enough to be sure you told us the truth, then we let you go be a good little soldier some more. Half for us, half for Psi Corps. If you don’t like that, we tear it out of your head and finish you off with a bullet.”

Claude considered.

“It’s a mistake,” he said, finally. “But yes.”

“Fine.” One of the twins rubbed her eyes, sat up, and hesitantly approached. “Come here,” Fiona said, opening her arm.

The girl nestled under it and closed her eyes. Fiona closed her own, over a wave of tenderness that quickly became anger, both surprising in their intensity. The Psi Cop thought he had a family, but she knew what family was, and Psi Corps wasn’t it. But neither was the resistance-it was just the hope of a family, someday. The prayer for one. And suddenly she understood where her own hope had gone, and maybe just maybe-how to get it back.

CHAPTER 4

Jenny Winters” Diary July 21, 2189

Dear Diary: I can’t say it, so I have to write it. Fiona told me I should start a diary. I didn’t think it was a smart idea. What if the Psi Cops found it, and it had all of this information in it? But she told me about another girl, long ago, named Anne Frank. She said sometimes it was worth the risk, and what if a Nazi had found her diary and read it; maybe it would have broken his heart, rid the world of at least one evil man the best way. Not by killing him, but by making him good. I wish I had started it earlier, so I could have written down the happy things. Because Fiona is dead. And Matthew is dead. And Stephen is dead. And if you are a Psi Cop, reading this, I hope it breaks your heart. Because they were people so good I don’t have any words for them. They gave us love, and hope, and dreams that no one can take away from us. I hope they aren’t dead, but I know they are, because no one has heard from them, and they wouldn’t be gone so long without letting us know they were okay. I hope they they are. I should introduce myself, I guess, since this is my diary.

My name in Jenny Winters, and I’m thirteen. I was born in the United States, in Vermont, but I don’t remember Vermont. My mom was a teep, like me, and her and dad had to move a lot. She won’t tell me, but I know what happened to dad. He got tired of it, and he left her, and he turned her in, but she took me and ran. That was in England, I think. And we went from there to India, and then to Amazonia. Mom got a job there working for a corporation. I won’t write down the name, or even the city, because they knew she was a teep, and they hired her to do illegal scans. They didn’t pay her much, and we had to live where they said. Where we lived wasn’t much, just a sort of dark little room with one bed and a kitchenette. But we had plates there. Me and Mom bought them together, and she let me pick out the design. We never had real plates before that.

My neighborhood was nice, with a park and even a beach not far away. I learned Portuguese pretty fast, and had a few friends-Mily, Paolo, Rex. They never T -tested me in school. Mom said her company fixed that for us. I think that was the main reason she worked for them, because I think she didn’t like what she had to do very much. I’ll write some more tomorrow.

July 24, 2189

Dear Diary: I almost didn’t write in this anymore. I listened in on one of the meetings the other day. I’m not supposed to, but I’m practicing being stealthy. I’ve heard all of the stories about Fiona and Matthew and Stephen, and I know to be a good resistance leader you have to be as good at sneaking around as at fighting. That’s what I want to be, too. I don’t want to just ride the railroad to someplace safe. I want to fight. I want to blow Psi Corps up completely, and maybe EarthDome, too. Fiona and Matthew said not to think that way, that we only should blow things up when we have to. I think Stephen likes to hear me say it, though. I like Stephen. Matthew is great, but he’s married to Fiona of course, but maybe I’ll marry Stephen someday. Except he’s dead. It’s just that I can’t imagine anything that could kill Stephen. He’s been shot about sixty times, and he always gets back up. I’m losing track of this. I almost didn’t write anymore, because at the meeting (no, Mr. Psi Cop, I won’t tell you who was at it) at the meeting they said we were losing heart. They said that some people in the underground never liked Fiona and Matthew anyway, and now they’re going to do as they please. And other people are losing hope. I think a lot more people have been captured since F and M and S disappeared.

Anyway, Mom died in Amazonia. I don’t know exactly what happened, because at first I wouldn’t listen to them, and then I didn’t believe them. Some men came from the company Mom worked for, and they told me she was dead, and that they would take care of me. I was about ten, then. What they did was, they sold me to Mr. Farber. Yes, Mr. Psi Cop, I am telling you his name, and I didn’t slip up. I don’t care what happens to Mr. Achilles Robert Farber. I worked in his house. I got my voices when I was nine, and he knew that. He made me listen in on things. He made me feel things that other people were feeling, and then made him feel that. Bad things, like people getting stabbed and beaten up. Other things that maybe felt better but which Fiona says ought to be private. Sometimes he did things to me, and made me make him feel it at the same time. I won’t tell you all of the things, but Fiona said I should talk about it. That I shouldn’t be ashamed or anything because it wasn’t my fault. So I’m not ashamed. I wish I could forget some of it, though. I used to drink and sniff paint and that kind of thing, hoping I might forget, but Fiona put a stop to that. I used to like drinking, especially vodka or whisky when I could get it, but now I don’t miss it at all.

July 25, 2189

They were like king Auther and Guinever and Lancelot. Well, not exactly, but I thought I should make a literary reference , like you’re supposed to in school. I knew how to read when I came here, but Fiona taught me to like reading. What I mean is that they are like a king and queen and the perfect Knight, even more perfect than Lancelot, because Stephen would never betray Matthew, and neither would Fiona. Maybe they’re more like the three Musketeers. A few months ago, they got word that a boat getting teeps out of China was going to be boarded and searched by the Psi Cops in Capetown. They got down there in time, tied up the Port Authorities , and disguised themselves as them. Then they led the Psi Cops onto the wrong ship, which was owned by a certain Tong lieutenant who shanghaied the Psi Cops and put them to work in the poppy fields someplace. I guess they’re still there. Serves them right. Another time Fiona and Matthew got captured in the Central African Block. Stephen just walked into the holding station and killed everyone there, like an avenging angel.

See, leaders don’t have to put themselves in danger. You didn’t see president Indrasingh leading the troops during the Quebec riots, did you? But They do. They won’t send any of us to do a job they wouldn’t do themselves. They say that king Auther isn’t really dead, but just waiting until he is needed. If that’s where F & M & S are now, waiting till they’re needed-we need them. I don’t think the three Musketeers are supposed to be waiting anywhere, but we could use them, too.

August 2, 2189

I’m pissed. Me and one of the boys went to the market, and we played the deception game. It’s good practice for being stealthy. And we got a bottle of something that tastes bad (I can’t read the writing here) but man, is it strong. Well, so what. If Fiona didn’t want me to drink, she shouldn’t have got killed. I hate her. I have to go. I think I have to throw up.

August 4, 2189

I didn’t mean to say I hate Fiona. I don’t. Sometimes I get mad when I drink. I didn’t tell you how we first met. They found me at Mr. Farber’s house. Mr. Farber helped them sometimes, but when they found out about some of the things he does, they hit his house hard, anyway. He must have got wind about it, because he wasn’t there when they came. Stephen found me in my room. I thought he was part of another game, but he got me dressed and told me we were leaving. Then Fiona came, and when she saw me she cried. Her tears almost filled up my head. Stephen wanted to kill Mr. Farber, but they couldn’t find him. I think the resistance is going to hell. They blew up a train station, and a lot of normals were killed. Fiona and Matthew wouldn’t have let that happen. They would have hated it. Anyway, we have to move now. I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again.

September 3, 2189

I can’t believe it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Fiona and Matthew and Stephen aren’t dead. They’re here. And the best thing, the very best thing of all, is why they were gone. It wasn’t because they were captured or because they didn’t care anymore. They were gone because Fiona was having a baby! They named him Stephen, of course, “Stee” for short, so they don’t confuse him with big Stephen. I can’t even write here how happy I am. It’s like the Sun went away for a long time, but then came back even brighter and better than before. I can tell Stephen is proud. He actually holds the baby, as goofy as that looks. He told everyone he was the godfather. But they still had time for me! Stephen gave me a big hug as soon as he saw me, and asked how I had been running the revolution while he was gone. I didn’t tell him things were going wrong, because it doesn’t matter anymore. Fiona and Matthew hugged me, too, although they are very busy. Everyone wants to see them, and they have the baby. I think Fiona was sad, because I think she smelled the stuff on my breath, but now that she’s back I’ll stop, of course. I’m just going tonight, because my friends say we should celebrate, and they know where we can steal some real whisky, not that stuff we’ve been drinking. I can’t believe I’m so happy. Everyone else is, too. A baby! In Psi Corps they make you many people you don’t want to, because they breed people like they breed dogs to get poodles and things. And out here, they steal babies, take them off, and raise them. But Fiona and Matthew had a baby, a real, fine beautiful free baby. Every time we give up hope, they bring us more. I heard one of the older women say that. So, mister Psi Cop, if you are reading this. You lose. You can’t keep us down, no matter what you do. You can’t.

Kevin Vacit thumbed through the rest of the pages in the little book, but they were all blank.

“So I’m a grandfather,” he murmured. “Imagine that.” He hit his com. “Send Ms. Alexander in, now.”

“Yes, sir.” Natasha entered a few moments later.

“How is the girl?” he asked.

“She’ll be okay, poor thing. They had to deep scan her, of course, but she’ll recover.” She shifted uncomfortably. “She isn’t going to a camp, is she?”

Kevin shook his head, tapped the little diary.

“No. She’s already suffered enough at the hands of normals. We have everything she needs to straighten out right here. Structure, authority, and a family. She’s confused and damaged, but it’s not too late for her.”

“The Corps is mother, the Corps is father.”

“And we need that, we orphans. She’ll see in time. Tell her teachers to use extra patience.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And this other matter. You have the location of the eastern base of operations?”

“Yes. And they won’t shift because we planted a cover to make it appear the girl was picked up by local mundanes for stealing. They don’t know we have her.”

He nodded.

“It’s been a long wait, but I think it’s time to move. The underground is completely out of hand. Even their supporters in the Senate have to admit that. It’s time to clean it up. And this Fiona and Matthew Dexter, they seem to be the heart of it. I want them alive-martyrs we don’t need. When they join the Corps and come out against the underground, whatever remains of it after tonight will dry up and blow away.”

“Yes, sir. But what if they won’t join, sir?”

“They will, because we need them department have made a few breakthroughs in conditioning techniques . I hope to convince them with reason, but if we can’t, then we can’t.” He smiled dryly. “First we have to get them, of course. I want double the necessary strike team. Oh-and the girl’s diary confirms the manor-there is a child. Be certain it is not harmed.”

“Will do, sir.”

She left, and he thumbed back through the book. A card he hadn’t noticed fell out. Someone—presumably the girl-had sketched a picture on it in colored pencils. A king and queen, each wearing a crown, a knight in golden armor, and in front of them a manger. Beneath it she had written, “Gallahad is Born.” On the inside it said, “Happy Birthday, Stephen Kevin Dexter.”