Silver Silence
Page 13
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There were rumors he was directly behind the disappearance of at least one Councilor, a cold-blooded sociopath of a woman Bo suspected of having used mind control to turn the former leadership of the Alliance into her puppets.
All of that might’ve made him more receptive to the Coalition but for one brutal fact: Nikita Duncan may have survived the purging of the Council, may even have given birth to a cardinal empath Bo respected, but that didn’t wipe her hands clean of all the blood she’d spilled, a lot of it human.
“Humans and Psy,” Krychek said now, “are on an inevitable collision course.”
Bo’s shoulders knotted. “This have anything to do with the fact your people need human minds for some reason?”
His direct access to PsyNet data was erratic, dependent on a Psy junkie who was a brilliant hacker when he wasn’t high. This time around, the other man had managed to get his hands on part of a secure document that talked about the “necessary human element” and “how to achieve integration.”
Kaleb betrayed no surprise at his knowledge. “What I’m about to tell you is highly classified. I’m sharing the data because in this, Psy and humans may be able to assist one another.”
“I doubt that, but I’m listening.”
“The PsyNet was never meant to hold only Psy minds,” Krychek said. “Until Silence, humans were part of it through their relationships with Psy.”
“How? We’re not telepathic.”
“Love forms a psychic bond. Changelings call it the mating bond.” White stars on black, Krychek’s gaze was inscrutable. “A human mind in the PsyNet is connected only to the person with whom they share the mating bond. No one else can even reach that mind, much less hack it.”
Bo felt his lips twist, but he held back his cynical comment about how humans outside the PsyNet weren’t afforded that courtesy. “You’re forgetting an entire race,” he said instead. “Didn’t the Psy want changelings in their network?”
“Changelings did have a presence, but their numbers were far lower—likely because, in many cases, changelings are able to provide Psy mates with an alternative psychic network we don’t fully understand, thus taking Psy out rather than bringing changelings in. Humans, however, were always an integral aspect of the PsyNet. Not peripheral, essential.”
Bo stared at Krychek, the laugh that erupted from his throat unintentional. “Let me get this straight. The high-and-mighty Psy need humans to maintain your psychic network?”
“Yes.” Krychek’s expression continued to be impassive. “Coercion negates the effect. The Psy-human bond must be made by choice.”
“You’re shit out of luck then,” Bo said, all laughter gone from his soul. “For humans to trust a Psy is to consign themselves to psychic rape.” His tone was hard, his heart even harder.
“Should the Alliance work with the Coalition in encouraging and creating opportunities for human-Psy relationships,” Krychek said, “the Coalition will put all of its considerable resources into finding a way for humans to permanently block Psy intrusion.”
Bo’s hand tightened around the weapon he still held. Of all the things they could’ve offered . . . “I already have access to the most brilliant scientists on the planet.”
“Ashaya and Amara Aleine are undoubtedly that, but they can’t think of everything. The Coalition is offering you the entire machinery of the Psy race geared toward one overriding goal.”
That machinery was massive, far beyond anything the Alliance could command. “All I’d have to do to get this generous gift is sell out my people, tell them to trust the Psy.” Bo shook his head. “The answer is no.” He would not betray everything the Alliance stood for on the faith of a nebulous promise from a race that had done so much damage.
“Every human on this planet,” he said, rage a cauldron of darkness inside him, “knows at least one person who’s had their mind treated like a store or a playhouse by Psy who wanted to steal their ideas or just to defile. We have no reason or desire to help you.”
“Strange as it may seem, I agree with you—the Psy have no right to make this request.” Krychek rose to his feet as if to leave, paused suddenly.
“My mate,” he said, “tells me I need to trust you with a fact we don’t often share: Psy need the biofeedback offered by a psychic network. Sever that link and death comes in a matter of minutes. Should the PsyNet fail,” he added softly, “it’ll mean the near extinction of an entire race.”
Bo’s hand fisted on his desk, the image a devastating one. Because the Psy weren’t only the Coalition and powerful bastards like Krychek. The Psy were also the little girl down the road who waved shyly to him from her nursery window, the M-Psy who saved lives day after day, and the vulnerable openhearted empaths who were helping humans and changelings as well as Psy.
To imagine their lives snuffed out—it was a brutal vision.
As brutal were the other images he had in his brain: of broken humans who’d had their entire lives stripped from them by Psy; of children who’d lost their mothers and fathers to Psy death squads; of men and women who’d committed suicide after losing their lives’ work to a Psy thief.
“Do it for nothing in return,” Bo said quietly. “Do the research just because it’s the right thing to do. Put humans and Psy on equal footing when it comes to psychic privacy. Then, maybe, we can talk.”
Chapter 6
I’ve just been alerted to a serious issue to do with pure telepaths.
—Kaleb Krychek to the rest of the Ruling Coalition (February 2082)
EXHAUSTION BEGAN TO bite at Silver forty-five minutes into the drive to StoneWater territory. Regardless of how hard she tried to fight it, the fatigue seeped into her blood, made her head want to tilt to the side.
“Moyo solnyshko, you ever consider saying to hell with it to the Silence?”
Valentin’s unexpected question was a welcome dose of cold water. Ignoring that he’d addressed her as his “sunshine,” she focused on his question. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.” No one could ever know that Silver couldn’t breach Silence; the world had to believe it was a choice.
As far as the Mercants as a group went, the issue of Silence was still under discussion. The overriding consensus was that surrendering to emotion would erode them, make them far too approachable, far too “human” in the wider sense. That didn’t mean a Mercant would never break Silence.
One member of her family hadn’t ever been truly Silent.
“Of course it isn’t my business.” Valentin’s deep rumble of a voice broke into her thoughts—though she’d never forgotten his presence. Silver wasn’t in the habit of forgetting six feet plus several inches of heavily muscled threat next to her.
“But just because it isn’t my business,” Valentin continued, sounding aggrieved, “doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”
Bears did appear to have a tendency toward inveterate curiosity. Half the time when they got into trouble, it was because they’d been poking their noses where they didn’t belong. A group had even wandered all the way out to Kaleb’s isolated home soon after Kaleb bonded with Sahara. When caught and questioned, they’d belligerently said they didn’t believe the rumors of Kaleb having a mate, had come to see for themselves.
All of that might’ve made him more receptive to the Coalition but for one brutal fact: Nikita Duncan may have survived the purging of the Council, may even have given birth to a cardinal empath Bo respected, but that didn’t wipe her hands clean of all the blood she’d spilled, a lot of it human.
“Humans and Psy,” Krychek said now, “are on an inevitable collision course.”
Bo’s shoulders knotted. “This have anything to do with the fact your people need human minds for some reason?”
His direct access to PsyNet data was erratic, dependent on a Psy junkie who was a brilliant hacker when he wasn’t high. This time around, the other man had managed to get his hands on part of a secure document that talked about the “necessary human element” and “how to achieve integration.”
Kaleb betrayed no surprise at his knowledge. “What I’m about to tell you is highly classified. I’m sharing the data because in this, Psy and humans may be able to assist one another.”
“I doubt that, but I’m listening.”
“The PsyNet was never meant to hold only Psy minds,” Krychek said. “Until Silence, humans were part of it through their relationships with Psy.”
“How? We’re not telepathic.”
“Love forms a psychic bond. Changelings call it the mating bond.” White stars on black, Krychek’s gaze was inscrutable. “A human mind in the PsyNet is connected only to the person with whom they share the mating bond. No one else can even reach that mind, much less hack it.”
Bo felt his lips twist, but he held back his cynical comment about how humans outside the PsyNet weren’t afforded that courtesy. “You’re forgetting an entire race,” he said instead. “Didn’t the Psy want changelings in their network?”
“Changelings did have a presence, but their numbers were far lower—likely because, in many cases, changelings are able to provide Psy mates with an alternative psychic network we don’t fully understand, thus taking Psy out rather than bringing changelings in. Humans, however, were always an integral aspect of the PsyNet. Not peripheral, essential.”
Bo stared at Krychek, the laugh that erupted from his throat unintentional. “Let me get this straight. The high-and-mighty Psy need humans to maintain your psychic network?”
“Yes.” Krychek’s expression continued to be impassive. “Coercion negates the effect. The Psy-human bond must be made by choice.”
“You’re shit out of luck then,” Bo said, all laughter gone from his soul. “For humans to trust a Psy is to consign themselves to psychic rape.” His tone was hard, his heart even harder.
“Should the Alliance work with the Coalition in encouraging and creating opportunities for human-Psy relationships,” Krychek said, “the Coalition will put all of its considerable resources into finding a way for humans to permanently block Psy intrusion.”
Bo’s hand tightened around the weapon he still held. Of all the things they could’ve offered . . . “I already have access to the most brilliant scientists on the planet.”
“Ashaya and Amara Aleine are undoubtedly that, but they can’t think of everything. The Coalition is offering you the entire machinery of the Psy race geared toward one overriding goal.”
That machinery was massive, far beyond anything the Alliance could command. “All I’d have to do to get this generous gift is sell out my people, tell them to trust the Psy.” Bo shook his head. “The answer is no.” He would not betray everything the Alliance stood for on the faith of a nebulous promise from a race that had done so much damage.
“Every human on this planet,” he said, rage a cauldron of darkness inside him, “knows at least one person who’s had their mind treated like a store or a playhouse by Psy who wanted to steal their ideas or just to defile. We have no reason or desire to help you.”
“Strange as it may seem, I agree with you—the Psy have no right to make this request.” Krychek rose to his feet as if to leave, paused suddenly.
“My mate,” he said, “tells me I need to trust you with a fact we don’t often share: Psy need the biofeedback offered by a psychic network. Sever that link and death comes in a matter of minutes. Should the PsyNet fail,” he added softly, “it’ll mean the near extinction of an entire race.”
Bo’s hand fisted on his desk, the image a devastating one. Because the Psy weren’t only the Coalition and powerful bastards like Krychek. The Psy were also the little girl down the road who waved shyly to him from her nursery window, the M-Psy who saved lives day after day, and the vulnerable openhearted empaths who were helping humans and changelings as well as Psy.
To imagine their lives snuffed out—it was a brutal vision.
As brutal were the other images he had in his brain: of broken humans who’d had their entire lives stripped from them by Psy; of children who’d lost their mothers and fathers to Psy death squads; of men and women who’d committed suicide after losing their lives’ work to a Psy thief.
“Do it for nothing in return,” Bo said quietly. “Do the research just because it’s the right thing to do. Put humans and Psy on equal footing when it comes to psychic privacy. Then, maybe, we can talk.”
Chapter 6
I’ve just been alerted to a serious issue to do with pure telepaths.
—Kaleb Krychek to the rest of the Ruling Coalition (February 2082)
EXHAUSTION BEGAN TO bite at Silver forty-five minutes into the drive to StoneWater territory. Regardless of how hard she tried to fight it, the fatigue seeped into her blood, made her head want to tilt to the side.
“Moyo solnyshko, you ever consider saying to hell with it to the Silence?”
Valentin’s unexpected question was a welcome dose of cold water. Ignoring that he’d addressed her as his “sunshine,” she focused on his question. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.” No one could ever know that Silver couldn’t breach Silence; the world had to believe it was a choice.
As far as the Mercants as a group went, the issue of Silence was still under discussion. The overriding consensus was that surrendering to emotion would erode them, make them far too approachable, far too “human” in the wider sense. That didn’t mean a Mercant would never break Silence.
One member of her family hadn’t ever been truly Silent.
“Of course it isn’t my business.” Valentin’s deep rumble of a voice broke into her thoughts—though she’d never forgotten his presence. Silver wasn’t in the habit of forgetting six feet plus several inches of heavily muscled threat next to her.
“But just because it isn’t my business,” Valentin continued, sounding aggrieved, “doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”
Bears did appear to have a tendency toward inveterate curiosity. Half the time when they got into trouble, it was because they’d been poking their noses where they didn’t belong. A group had even wandered all the way out to Kaleb’s isolated home soon after Kaleb bonded with Sahara. When caught and questioned, they’d belligerently said they didn’t believe the rumors of Kaleb having a mate, had come to see for themselves.
