Page 128 of Star-Born Anomaly
Other memories surfaced, ones that came after. Of boots coming toward him, defenders in full battle gear and scientists decked out in bio-suits. Hands grabbed and dragged him, lifting him onto a hover bed to take him to a lab. He remembered the hum of a decontamination chamber and the buzz of a laser scalpel.
Sawyer ran his hands over his body, trying to figure out what they’d done to him, but he didn’t hurt anywhere except for the ache in his head from the bright white. He wore some scratchy medical garb, the same as the good doctor, and it crinkled as he shifted to his knees to scan behind him.
He was alone. That might be the most disturbing thing of all.
Just a breath ago, he’d heard them all in his head, all the people the Calypson fucker had transformed. He would have taken the whole damn ship if she hadn’t stopped him. Sawyer remembered their names, their desires, their hidden secrets.
And that meant they would remember his.
Coalesced. The word bounced around in his head. Every person they crossed, he’d had the urge to coalesce with them as well. To become more complete.
Except the good doctor. She’d been untouchable, but important.
He knew so much more about her now, but an acute frustration rose at not knowing everything.
When he’d joined the others, he’d never felt so whole, so complete, sostrong,in his life. They’d worked together, indestructible, powered by one thought, one motivation, and he’d reveled in it. The synchronism. Thepurpose.
Now he was weak. Alone.
A fiery surge of anger followed the thought, and he fisted his hands against the padded floor. He’d had no will of his own. He’d been a puppet, even more so than being an agent for the CORE. If the Calypson had told him to lift his arm, he would have, believing the idea was his own while he accomplished the task. If the fucker had told him jumping out of an airlock would have benefited the group, Sawyer would have done that, too.
A crawling sensation prickled over his skin. He’d been used, forced to act, but while changed he hadn’t wanted to lose the power he’d gained.
The dichotomy of it warred inside his head, making his heart race.
None of that.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his fists and placed his hands flat against the floor, grounding himself.
What happened to the others? Those who had experienced the same pain?
He took another deep breath and tried to stretch his mind outward. When nothing immediately happened, he scoffed at his own stupidity, and shook his head. Of course he couldn’t reach them. The Calypson fucker had reversed everything, emptying them all.
But that didn’t explain why Sawyer’s mind was playing tricks on him, how a strange murmur in the back of his head told him General Cazin stood close by.
Sawyer lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the white wall. It rippled, and he gritted his teeth against the need to react while his heart beat a hard rhythm in his chest. The rippling increased until it settled into a live image—like he would see on a viewer.
General Cazin took up the center of the feed, standing at a terminal in a lab with two scientists. The space looked exactly as it had when they’d saved the good doctor. Either he was still on theCorvus, or a different Guardian with the same equipment.
Or this is a remote image. They could have put him anywhere and spoken to him through the comm.
But the itch in the back of his brain told him the general was close by.
A mild scowl marred Cazin’s brow while Sawyer stared at him, his body braced for a fight, and his mind searching for exits. He remembered how they’d gotten the doctor out, how it lifted like a cage without a door. Could he force the edge of the wall up if he had to?
His fingers twitched to try, but he remained as he was, not even standing at attention for the general since the box lacked height.
“We’ve lifted the ship’s quarantine,” General Cazin said, his voice loud in the confines of the box.
Of course they’d been quarantined. A Calypson on a Guardian? Defenders changed against their will, then released from that mental prison? It came as more of a surprise that another Guardian hadn’t come and reduced theCorvusto space rubble just to be safe.
Sawyer forced himself to relax and wiped his hand along the thick hair on his jaw. “How long has it been?” His throat strained with disuse.
The general pursed his lips. “Twenty-nine days.”
That explained the beard and his empty stomach.
Sawyer stared at Cazin, the questions in his head stacked a kilometer high. What could he get away with? What would see him sent out an airlock?
