Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(12)

Captain Brett Walker

I felt some weakness, but Dr. Farrell said it would pass. He'd told me the drug was experimental and that I'd been chosen, since I was at death's door when it was administered.

I didn't know whether to laugh or consider that I really was dreaming.

"A change in your appearance is expected," Dr. Farrell said. I stared at my image in the mirror.

Before, my hair had been nearly red. Now it was dark, as were my eyes, which were blue, before.

I didn't mind the change and the Doctor was correct—I would run again. I was whole in the most miraculous, unexplainable way possible. At least I didn't have to worry about contacting family members—my mom was dead and my dad disappeared when I was little.

Nobody left, and contacting former friends or family was forbidden anyway, because of the secrecy surrounding the drug.

I didn't care—I was going to run again.

*

Notes—Colonel Hunter

According to Cori and Valegar, Rafe's blood was now neutralized. He could donate blood and it would be just as normal as anyone else's. We were discussing the tracking of other survivors when the call from Richard Farrell interrupted.

"Check your e-mail," Richard said before I could get an entire hello out of my mouth.

I tapped my keyboard and brought up the e-mail in question. Two photographs were included, without any text. I froze.

"Madam President gave permission," Richard quavered. "Colonel Hunter, it's wonderful, isn't it?"

"Holy f*ck," I sighed. Maye and Nick's faces stared back at me from the e-mail. Across the room, I heard Corinne's muffled holy shit.

*

Corinne

Rafe drove the van; Auggie sat in the front with him. Matt and Opal took up the second set of seats; Val and I had to make ourselves even smaller to fit in the back. Our destination was the ugly building in Arlington, but on the inside, I'd made changes the last time I was there.

Richard Farrell, without informing Auggie, had gone over his head to get Maye back. I wasn't sure that doing this for personal reasons was the proper thing to do, but it was moot, now. It was done. At least the participants were military.

As of now, the Program was up and running again.

"I've forgotten how inelegant travel by Earth vehicle is," Val remarked as we bounced across a pothole in the ugly building's parking lot.

Auggie feels he needs an alternate form of escape, in case we left him here after folding space, I sent.

Understandable. I would feel the same, Val agreed. Perhaps it is a good thing that our Karathian Warlock in the driver's seat never had his power awakened, he added. His shielding ability and the talent for invisibility is something he'd have had, anyway.

Yeah. We were supposed to be reborn on Karathia, I heaved a mental sigh. You see how that turned out.

I'm pleased that you were reborn a second time as Larentii. Only the most deserving achieve that.

I held back from telling Ilya that he's almost immortal, I responded. I'd changed the subject to get Val away from talking about me—it embarrassed me, when most Larentii would merely acknowledge the truth in the statement.

He can still be killed; I'm sure he realizes that, Val responded. Shall I transport us out of this infernal mechanism?

Please.

*

Jennifer Troutman, her eyes and face identical to Maye's after she'd received the drug, smiled when Val and I walked through the door. She and Nick's clone, Captain Brett Walker, waited in a room on the top floor that was flooded with light.

Seats and plants were scattered about—it was decorated as a sanctuary for those recovering in Richard Farrell's personal hospital.

"This is Colonel August Hunter," Richard Farrell began introductions before I could accost him for what he'd done. "He's Secretary of Defense and the one in charge of the Program."

"I know who Colonel Hunter is," Brett Walker held out a hand. Auggie obliged.

"Thank you for your service," Auggie said. "I hear you were severely wounded in Afghanistan."

"Wounded would be putting it mildly, Colonel. I have to say, this miracle drug you've developed is, well, a miracle." It was hard to watch—Brett's words coming from Nick's mouth.

I coughed to clear my throat. Auggie shot me a frown before turning to First Lieutenant Jennifer Troutman. "I heard your convoy was attacked in Iraq," he said. "You're the only survivor."

"I haven't had time to deliver that news," Richard muttered.

Or a lot of other news, I pointed out in mindspeech.

Corinne, please don't, Richard begged. You have no idea, he cut his words short when I nodded toward Rafe.

After all, to everyone except Rafe, I looked like the old Corinne—before the taller, bluer Corinne. Only Rafe saw me as someone different.

For both our sakes.

This isn't Maye, this is Jennifer, I pointed out.

I know. Richard turned away for a moment.

He still doesn't realize what an abomination the drug is—especially to those who've been cloned. They have their set of memories, and another set that threatens to emerge. Some clones have an extreme amount of difficulty coming to terms with that, Valegar said.

So those who had Sirenali obsession were better off? I asked.

In some ways, he agreed. But, as you realize, the orders to kill that were likely put in place are extremely unhealthy—to all involved.