Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

105 ∞ initiation

Day Twenty ∞ Wednesday morning

 "I DON'T SUPPOSE you'll be going on this mission, Mister McGahn," Dr. Kruger said.

Danny snapped his gaze to him, startled. He'd been following Mickmi's progress closely as she spoke to each of the 22 airmen standing in formation in the middle of the hangar. "What?"

"Will you be going on the mission? I'm inclined to believe you're a mere earthbound earthling like myself." Kruger's mustache lifted in a smile.

"Oh." Danny hadn't thought about that. But the idea of flying into space with Mickmi didn't feel half as disconcerting now as when he boarded that flimsy plane or her ship to get here. Maybe that had something to do with the nanites in his system or—no... it probably had to do the new knowledge in his head. Certainly traveling in her ship would be a lot safer than on his bike. "I've no idea. I don't think I'm qualified." Letting her go without him did not sit comfortably with him. At the same time, he didn't want to be in her way on such a critical mission—and that was more important.

—You would not be in the way. Mickmi circled away from the last volunteer and met his gaze across the floor before facing the group of men again.

—You sure? Maybe he could join her in his dream like he did when she was testing in the gym. Or... would that distract her too much during the mission?

"The rest of you may leave," Mickmi said. "Thank you for your time."

Selina joined her as the contingent broke up, leaving eight men. When the others exited the hanger, Mickmi spoke again. "We will only need four of you. My advisor here will determine the final selection. Please, remain relaxed through this process. No harm will come to you."

The officer who'd been overseeing the exercise approached Mickmi. "Excuse me. Exactly what will she be doing?"

"Major Kerr," she turned to him, "Blanc Aave will probe their minds. It is solely to determine the candidates with the most suitable mindsets to work with us on this mission. She will also ask," she exchanged glances with Selina, "two simple questions. No information will be accessed. May we proceed?"

∞

Weaver waited three seconds. When the girl remained frozen with furrowed brows on her bike, he turned to look outside, stooping. A gap between a deuce truck and the temporary command center gave him a clear view of the rising horizon and the jeeps halting near a hill a klick away.

"They've—" A sudden headache and nausea interrupted him, forcing him to swallow. Damn... What's wrong with me? Sweating, he backed inside and leaned against the curved wall as he massaged his temples. The pain was worsening, pulsating—his heart pounding faster than normal in his head. Grimacing, he looked up. Lora was staring past him through the opening, eyes glinting yellow, knuckles whitening on the handlebars. And yellow and orange light dots flickered on her choker.

"Hey!" He swallowed again. "Snap out of it. What are you—" Then it was all he could do to keep the bile from rising. Fuck.

Artemae jumped up from her workstation and approached the bike. "L'or Aug. You're hurting our friend. Mind your noos. You're," she touched Lora's wrist, "very red."

Startled, Lora glanced at her, then looked at Weaver in alarm. "Oh no."

The nausea settled as quickly as it began. Weaver drew deep breaths, and the pounding slowed and faded as she dismounted and rushed forward.

He pointed at her to stop.

"I am so sorry... for my lapse in attention... in self-control. Please... forgive me." She looked genuinely upset but that made no difference to Weaver.