The changeling knelt by the teacher. "I'll make sure they get home safe," he said, his voice holding a growl, then he shepherded the children away.

Certain the children were in hands that would protect not harm, Vasic met up with the two other Arrows on the scene. Younger and less experienced, they looked to him for direction. "Separate the injured noninfected from the infected," he ordered. "The latter will need to be restrained if they don't slip into comas."

"Sir, triage?" the female Arrow asked.

"The noninfected are to be treated first." It was a ruthless but practical decision. "The infected rate of survival is currently zero, regardless of their physical health."

That done, he started to go over the scene. He tagged the dead so the medics wouldn't have to waste time searching through the bodies themselves, then he shifted the corpses to the back of the street. Behind him, the medics worked at rapid speed to a.s.sist the wounded.

Judging the situation was now under control, with the local authorities out in force, he was about to begin clearing the low-rise apartment buildings that dominated the street when he pa.s.sed a narrow s.p.a.ce between two street-facing buildings and heard a stifled sob. Pausing, he waited for his eyes to adapt to the darkness within. The boy huddled inside the snow that had collected there couldn't have been more than thirteen.

It's safe, he telepathed, instinct whispering the juvenile was Psy.

The boy's head jerked up, fear on every inch of his face.

Vasic crouched down to make himself appear less of a threat. "You're not in trouble."

"I cried," the boy whispered, knuckling away the tears that ran over his wide-cheeked face, his uptilted eyes swollen and red.

"Silence has fallen," Vasic said, and because he knew many people didn't yet believe the fall was real, added, "It was a traumatic and unusual situation. No one will remember your reaction in light of the other events that took place here today." The Net was in too much chaos to notice the fractured Silence of a child. "What's your name?"

Wiping his face on the sleeve of his winter jacket, the boy said, "Eben." Then it was as if he couldn't stop speaking, his words tumbling over one another. "I was walking to catch the jet-train to school. We had a late start today because the teachers had a meeting, and I pa.s.sed the trippers-"

"Trippers?"

"The elementary school children," he said. "There's a museum that backs onto this street at the cul-de-sac end, and the school transports usually stop here, and then the trippers use a public pathway to get to the museum. It's faster than going all the way around, and one of the museum staff usually shovels away any snow in the morning."

Vasic had allowed the boy to ramble to ease his nerves, but now nudged his recollection back on track, "Go on. You'd pa.s.sed the children."

"I was thinking of my science homework"-Eben swallowed-"and about a girl at school." His brown eyes, the pupils dilated, met Vasic's. "I was a few meters past the elementary school kids when they started screaming, and I turned to run back. I thought maybe there'd been an accident. I've had first aid training at school."

"Breathe." Vasic used the same tone he used on Arrow trainees who began to panic during simulations. "You did the right thing."

"I couldn't get to them." The boy's entire body shook, shivers wracking his gangly frame even as perspiration broke out over the pale brown of his skin. "There were people pouring out of the apartments on either side and coming at me with knives and other things." He began to rock back and forth. "I didn't want to, but I had to."

Vasic realized Eben was holding something by his side. "Give it to me."

Shaking, trembling, the teenager lifted a baseball bat wet with blood but couldn't seem to pa.s.s it across. "I have baseball practice today."

Vasic 'ported the bat away, so it wouldn't be in Eben's line of sight as the teen continued to speak.

"I didn't want to, but they wouldn't stop and I had to. The little kids were screaming and I couldn't help. I tried. I tried so hard!"

"You did everything you could." He considered how to handle the clearly traumatized child. "How far is your home?"

"Four buildings down."

Vasic froze . . . and that was when he became aware he was experiencing a dull version of the abrasive sensation he felt near all empaths but Ivy. From a Psy who lived in the center of the zone of infection and should, therefore, have gone insane along with his neighbors. "Were your parents home?" Their current location didn't matter, of course. Anyone resident on this street would've been anch.o.r.ed in the infected part of the PsyNet and would've gone insane the instant the infection reached critical ma.s.s. Considering the time of day, a large number would've been at work.

Eben looked at him blankly.

Standing up, Vasic walked to an ambulance and grabbed a thermal blanket. When he returned, he stepped into the s.p.a.ce too narrow to be called an alley and wrapped the blanket around Eben before picking the child up in his arms, and at this moment, the boy was very much a child, despite his age. With no information on Eben's parents or next of kin, Vasic made the decision to bring the boy directly to Ivy's cabin.

Rabbit barked, scrabbling into the room from the porch. Ivy followed on his heels. One look at the boy in Vasic's arms, and she didn't ask questions, simply took control. Eben was tucked up in her bed with Rabbit sitting sentinel next to him within minutes. "I'll take care of him," she said when Vasic indicated he had to leave.

"I'm certain he's an E, so he shouldn't be violent"-the only reason Vasic was leaving the boy with her-"but be careful. I've alerted Judd and the conscious members of my unit to his presence."

Ivy spread her hand over her heart. "He's hurt inside," she said, the boy's anguish so deep and heartrending she'd sensed it even without lowering her empathic shields. "His family?" It was an instinctive question; she'd checked on her parents the instant after Vasic 'ported out, discovered the shock wave had been nowhere near as violent in their region. Everyone in the settlement was safe.

Vasic's response to her question was brief. "Unknown."

Releasing an unsteady breath, she shook her head. "There's a good chance one or both of them are dead, isn't there?"

"Yes." No expression on his face, no hint of care, but he'd wrapped the distressed teenager in a blanket and brought him here instead of leaving him to the medics on-site. That told Ivy everything she needed to know about the man who had quietly wound chains of stunning winter frost around her heart.

"You be careful, too," she said, and touched his arm.

Glancing down, he just barely brushed his fingertips over her own.

She curled her fingers into her palm when he was gone, holding on to the contact like a precious jewel.

a a a ADEN sealed another part of the jagged tear in the fabric of the Net, conscious of the staggering depth of power that kept it closed so he could do what needed to be done. Kaleb Krychek's strength was beyond all known measurements.

Repair complete, he telepathed and moved to the next section.

Vasic, Kaleb said without warning. Do you want to pull him out of Alaska? I can have a unit of my own men in the area within a half hour.

The question betrayed an understanding of Vasic's psychological state that Aden had trouble believing came from the ruthless dual cardinal. Emotional intelligence had never been a weapon in Krychek's a.r.s.enal . . . but the other man was no longer working alone. The question and its attendant insight, Aden thought, was far more apt to have come from Sahara Kyriakus.

No, he replied. Vasic won't leave, given the scale of the situation. Aden couldn't order Vasic to do so, as he could the rest of the squad. That wasn't how their partnership worked.

I neither discard nor undervalue my people, Aden, was Krychek's response. Vasic is too critical a piece of the squad to lose.

That sounded more like the cardinal, the equation a calculated one-but beneath the calculation was the same capacity for loyalty that had first drawn the squad to him. Unlike Ming LeBon, Kaleb Krychek might be ruthless, but he did not sacrifice or betray those who kept faith with him.

He's stable at present, Aden said at last, unwilling to trust Krychek with the changes he'd sensed in Vasic-their alliance remained a new construct, with secrets on both sides.

I'll bow to your judgment on this point. Krychek caught a fraying edge, held it in an unyielding telepathic fist. However, we need to talk about the gauntlet. I've accessed the latest reports, and it's clear the biofusion is becoming increasingly more unreliable.

Surprise was an Arrow's enemy, but Kaleb Krychek had provoked it in Aden today. It wasn't the fact the dual cardinal had managed to get his hands on medical files that were technically private that disconcerted Aden. It was that he valued an individual Arrow enough to bother. Then again, Vasic was a very useful tool. The biofusion team is continuing to work on stabilizing it. The threat of a further malfunction is minimal at present.

They worked in silence for the next forty-five minutes, and again, it was Krychek who broke it. Status on Cristabel Rodriguez?

Healing and liable to be back to active duty within a month, Aden supplied. The squad's strength has not been compromised-we have another shooter with the same level of accuracy as Cris.

Kaleb's reply was another unexpected statement. I'm aware of that. Cristabel, however, is a highly gifted trainer, according to the squad's own training records.

Again, it was information the cardinal shouldn't have, but Aden didn't interrupt.

Losing her would have a ripple effect, Krychek continued. Have you considered pulling her off active duty?

Retiring under Ming LeBon had inevitably led to an execution disguised as an accident-because no Arrow was ever permitted to retire until he or she was so worn-out that mistakes were inevitable. Yes, he responded carefully, wanting to measure Krychek's response. Cris has an affinity for teaching and is unlikely to oppose the transfer. Aden had, in fact, discussed the possibility with the older Arrow. The E placement had been meant to be a quiet one intended to give her time to think.

Then do it, Krychek said. You now have total control of the Arrow training program. Shape it to fit the needs of those who come to you. A long pause. I know how I was trained. I can guess how Vasic was trained. There has to be a better way, a way that doesn't threaten to turn children into monsters.

Aden was silent for over an hour, not because he didn't agree with Krychek, but because he did. He'd already ousted the sociopaths and the s.a.d.i.s.ts from the training program. Some had been Ming's men, others Arrows so far gone that they couldn't tell that what they were doing was wrong. Torture was no longer permitted on any level.

That had taken care of the short-term problem, but the larger one remained. Arrows were Arrows for a reason: their power was vicious and almost always deadly. Yes, he said at last. There has to be a better way. All he had to do was find it.

a a a IVY checked in on Eben two hours after he'd fallen asleep to find the teenager sitting up in bed. Rabbit was b.u.t.ting his head against Eben's chest, the dog's tongue hanging out in ecstasy, while the boy scratched him behind his ears.

"Careful." Ivy kept her tone gentle, one hand on the screen she'd unfolded to block out the light from the open door and the kitchen window. "Rabbit's a scam artist, will have you doing that all day."

Eben had gone motionless at her first words, his eyes wild, but he jerked to movement again at Rabbit's demanding bark.

"See," Ivy said with a smile. "Would you like a hot drink?"

A hesitant nod.

Leaving the room, Ivy went to the kitchen and mixed up a nutrient drink, judging the boy would prefer the familiar. Traumatized on the deepest level, he had no control of his fear and pain, and it sc.r.a.ped against her every sense. The other empaths had felt it, too, offered to help, but she'd asked them to stay away for the time being, not sure Eben could handle any more strangers.

Footsteps on wood.

"Take a seat," she said without stopping what she was doing. "I'm Ivy."

Eben sprawled into a chair at the table in a way that was pure teenage boy, Rabbit hopping up onto his lap to shamelessly demand more scratches. "You're Psy." It was a blurted-out comment.

Placing the nutrient drink in front of him and bringing out a little pot for her tea, Ivy said, "So are you."

"But you smile."

"I was always a very bad Psy," she admitted. "You're safe, Eben. No one here will betray you."

Adam's apple suddenly prominent as he swallowed, he said, "I can't maintain my Net shields."

"I'm sure Vasic's already taken care of that." Her strong, protective, infuriating Arrow who thought he should be condemned to live in the shadows even as he fought to save countless others. "He's the teleporter who brought you here."

Eben's eyes unfocused for a second. "Yes." Shuddering, he seemed to crumple in on himself. "I hurt people." His agony almost brought Ivy to her knees. "I hit and I hit and I hit and there was blood and other wet things and it was on me and they wouldn't stop. I screamed at them to stop but they wouldn't! They wouldn't stop, Ivy. They wouldn't stop."

Throat thick, Ivy breathed past his pain and her own response, and managed to get herself into a chair across from him. "Will you let me help you?" She took his hand, understanding his nauseated disgust at what he'd been forced to do in a way only another empath could. The sole mercy was that he didn't seem to be suffering from the rebound effect, perhaps because he'd acted in self-defense, with no desire to cause harm. "Eben?"

His fingers grasped hers with bruising force, his eyes awash in tears. "Please."

This was far beyond anything she was trained to do, but there was no choice-Eben's psychological state was devolving by the second. Opening up her empathic senses, she tried to take the boy's pain into herself, where it would be neutralized.

She didn't know how long it took, but she was conscious of her own stomach threatening to revolt as her mind began to blur at the edges. Ivy stiffened her spine, clenched her jaw-she couldn't collapse in Eben's presence. That would undo any good she'd done . . . and when she looked at him, she thought maybe she had done some good. The strain on his face had faded, his eyes clear, his shoulders no longer hunched.

Fighting the nausea that shoved at her throat, a toxic obstruction of fear, grief, rage, and guilt, she released his hand with a small pat. "Feeling better?"

Eyes wide, the teenager nodded. "Yes."

Ivy could feel his need to ask questions, but she wasn't going to last much longer. "Would you mind doing me a favor?" She found a smile from somewhere and told a small lie. "I haven't taken Rabbit for his walk today."

His face lit up. "Oh, sure. I- Does he like fetch?" A shy question. "One of my human cla.s.smates has a dog, and I've seen them playing fetch."

"He'll love you forever if you play fetch with him." Tapping her thigh, she said, "Fetch, Rabbit."

Tail wagging quick and excited, her pet skidded to his basket and returned with a stick they'd found in the woods. "It's just right for throwing."

Rabbit lunged for the door with a hopeful look over his shoulder, and Eben followed, too involved with the dog to look back. Just as well because Ivy was doubled over, Eben's horror now her own.

Chapter 27.

Intelligence and the capacity for independent thought are prerequisites for entry into the squad. An Arrow is a finely honed instrument capable of handling situations beyond the skill set of even the most well-trained black-ops soldier.

First Code of Arrows IT ONLY TOOK Vasic minutes to ascertain that Eben's custodial parent, his father, was in a coma. His mother lived in another region and was uninfected, but it made no sense to send the boy to her in his current state-he was much better off with Ivy.

That task complete, he joined the other Arrows in their house-to-house search for further survivors. In view of the risk posed by the infected, many of whom had struck out wildly with their psychic abilities during the fighting, he'd informed the local authorities that no one would be allowed into the homes until the Arrows had cleared the area.

They found a number of dead victims in the first building. At first glance, they all appeared to have killed one another, but he was sure Aden would make the pathologists check for brain aneurysms such as that which had struck down Subject 8-91.

Reporting the locations of the bodies to the local authorities, Vasic and his small team continued inward, each taking a different floor as they entered the next building. The work required meticulous concentration and unremitting alertness. A small number of humans were hunkered down behind locked doors, and Vasic told them to stay there after verifying the fact they were human.

"We have injured," a young male told him, his voice shaking. "Is it safe to take them out?"

Seeing the extent of one woman's injuries when the youth opened the door fully, the wounded woman's hands pressed over her blood-soaked sweatshirt, Vasic said, "I'll 'port her out. Carry the others out quietly down the corridor and through the stairwell."

His team also found a scattering of uninfected Psy-people who had just moved into the area, guests from out of town, a university student who'd had to barricade herself in the bathroom when her study partner came after her with a broken gla.s.s bottle. As with the humans, Vasic 'ported out the most injured, while human neighbors helped the walking wounded out through cleared exit routes.

It was on the third floor of the final building that Vasic heard something from inside an apartment with an ominously open door. Warning the others to be on standby, he moved quietly down the corridor. The door bore a single b.l.o.o.d.y handprint, the body of a middle-aged brunette lying just inside-it appeared she'd been bashed over the head with a vase that was now in splinters around her.

A small barren table by the door bore the faint mark of a water ring that told Vasic the vase had been sitting there before it was turned into a weapon.

Vasic checked the victim's pulse, found her skin cold. Her heart had stopped pumping blood long ago; if he had to guess, he'd say at the start of the outbreak. She'd opened the door to a knock and found herself face-to-face with death. Noting the location of the body to pa.s.s on to the local authorities, he checked the other rooms. Bathroom, kitchen, first bedroom, they were all empty.

Looking into the final room, its walls pale yellow with a white trim, he saw a curtain waving in the breeze and disengaged the alert, guessing the fabric must've dislodged something from a nearby shelf. He'd just cleared the tall cupboard to the left when he heard wordless murmuring coming from the other side of the room.

There was only one thing there: a crib.

Muscles tensed against the horror he might discover, he crossed the cream-colored carpet . . . to find himself the cynosure of big brown eyes in a round-cheeked face. The baby's face broke out into a smile at the sight of him. Babbling incoherently, it kicked up its feet, grabbed its toes in tiny hands, then held out its arms.