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Legacy(4)

By:Robert J Crane


I kept my breathing calm and controlled and poured my energies into keeping the voices in my head calm and orderly, not in a cacophony.

This was a surprise, Zack said.

Ya think? I asked him in reply, all sarcasm. I didn’t have to speak to do it now, I just concentrated hard on forming the thought behind the words, and I could feel him in my head, receiving it. I had just gotten my metaphorical ducks in a row, had a plan of action, and there I go getting jailed. I’m a regular 24601.

All the Little Doll’s past sins have come home to roost like chickens, Wolfe said, and I could sense his grin. But not as tasty. I shut the mental door on him, not impressed with his attitude. While it was by no means perfect, I had a mental image of holding pens for him and all the others, perfect little boxes that I was familiar with from the time I’d spent in it. I’d built one in my head with a thought and threw the voices in my mind inside whenever I needed a respite from them.

If anyone has any brilliant ideas for escaping, I said, I’m all ears. I frowned. Or brain, since I’m not actually listening to you.

If you were all brains, you wouldn’t have let yourself get caught, Eve Kappler said with a malevolence all her own. I rolled my eyes before I caught myself and the sound of her little box getting slammed shut followed. I thought I could hear her screaming in protest somewhere in the distance, but that faded quickly.

You’re at their mercy now, Roberto Bastian chimed in. Gonna have to wait to see how they want to play it.

They haven’t come in to question you and it’s been hours, Zack said, and I could sense his thoughts swirling around, mixed with my own. That’s ... unusual.

What are the odds I walk away from this through legal means? I asked the question.

I heard a cackling from Bjorn and slammed the door on him as well. You’d think one of them would learn from the others, but apparently I got stuck with some real dumbasses. Which was unsurprising, given that my luck always seemed to run in a southerly direction.

Not good, Zack answered me, and I could feel him cringe. Agent Li ... I sensed his hesitation at the use of Li’s name, ... is a pretty serious guy, and he read the charges to you right at the outset. There was a pause. He’s definitely not bluffing. He’s terrible at bluffing.

“Wait,” I said aloud then shut myself up after a quick, darting look around the empty holding room, as though I could see anyone looking at me. Stupid. You know this Agent Li?

Zack’s hesitation was short-lived, but it spoke volumes. He was my roommate at the University of Minnesota in my junior and senior years. He doesn’t mess around. Smart, capable, and straightforward. Like I said, he doesn’t bluff. If you haven’t already been charged with the crimes he listed, then they’ll be filed shortly. I’m just surprised he hasn’t come in to question you yet, especially given that he seemed to know that you’re a succubus and that you murdered five people.

Including you, I said. He accused me of murdering you.

There was a quiet in my head, the three who were left uncaged not wanting to say anything. Finally Bastian broke the awkward tension. Well, technically, you did—

I slammed the door to his box, and he took it like a man, no bellyaching. I could almost see Gavrikov and Zack staring at me from the mirrored surface of the one-way window that I was facing. Their ghostly forms were standing nervously behind me. So, how do I get out of this?

Zack’s face got a strained look. Just wait. Play for time. Where you are right now looks pretty damned untenable, especially with those cuffs on. I stirred again, putting some pressure on the cuffs, but I couldn’t get any leverage on them at all. Certainly not enough to find out if I could damage the metal. Since you probably can’t beat the system—Li said you wouldn’t be getting a lawyer—that leaves escape, which you can’t really do at present. Which means you have to wait until they give you an opening. Be ready for it.

I felt my eyelid twitch from the tension. Only the littlest part of me wanted to cry, but it was still a powerful call. I felt desperate at the thought of losing my freedom, having it taken away from me by these men. The fact that my entire subsection of the human species was being wiped out at this very moment and I was the only one organizing a resistance made it all the worse. I took a breath that was far more ragged than I would have liked and tried to stabilize my breathing, slowing it down, calming myself. It was working for now. I damned sure wasn’t going to cry here, though this was potentially scarier to me for some reason than the idea of being in a fight that could kill me. If I died, it was all over. But murder was a life sentence, and at eighteen years old and with a metahuman life span, that was potentially a very, very long time to be imprisoned.