Grady's Awakening

Chapter One

“Why wasn’t I made aware of this before?” Grady Prime demanded of the Governing Council as they met in a secret session. One by one, the Councilors stared him down. Even Primes were not permitted to behave with disrespect toward the Council. Grady Prime was treading a thin line. Of course, he’d been walking on eggshells for the past few weeks—ever since he’d taken the drug that was awakening emotions he’d never felt before.

“Your current demobilized status and superior skill set make you the most logical operative to send on this mission,” Councilor Gildereth, representing the military, said blandly. “It is unlikely you will ever return to your former duties and status among the regular army, given your participation in Mara 12’s experiment. You had to have known that when you volunteered to let her tamper with your DNA. However, you are too valuable an asset to retire. We can use your skills and perhaps your new understanding of the consequences of Mara 12’s experiment to discover the truth of the disturbing rumors we’ve heard.”

“There are rumors about a winged man?” Grady asked sharply. Perhaps too sharply. He’d have to watch his tone with these stone-faced, emotionless politicians. “Which populations have been talking? Is it localized to one city or region? That would give me a place to start.”

“The rumors of which we speak were not heard from our people,” Councilor Beyan, the crystallographer, cut in, her expression almost embarrassed—though being Alvian, she could not feel such things, of course. “The winged man is spoken of by Breed captives. Monitoring stations in every Breed enclosure have recorded and flagged references to what they call an angel. We have tracked the word to various religious mythologies that existed before the crystal seeding. We find this problematic when paired with the fact that we know at least one of our winged experimental squad is unaccounted for.”

Problematic, she’d said. Grady Prime had to bite back a laugh. He fought the urge to scoff at the Councilor’s poor grasp of what the appearance of a creature out of human mythology could mean to the captives. Especially a creature with mytho-religious origins.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial for me to know more about this experimental squad. I assume there are more of these winged men?”

Councilor Gildereth looked at him with a considering gaze, then relented. “Grady Prime, please remember that anything you hear in secret session is protected information at the highest level. You are not to divulge this information.” The Councilor waited until Grady nodded acknowledgment. “I believe it would be prudent for you to talk to some of the squadron members. The new Prime would probably be of greatest assistance as you begin your search for the one who escaped.”

“Escaped?” Grady Prime could have bitten his tongue. His curiosity was getting the better of him—something that had rarely happened before he’d been dosed with the DNA-altering agent. The experimental agent was starting to manifest emotions in him that had been bred out of the rest of his people.

“You’ll recall the attempt made on Chief Engineer Davin’s life. That was an assassination attempt authorized by a rogue element of this Council who has since been replaced.” Councilor Orin, representing artisans, nodded over at the newest member of the group and Grady recalled the scene that had played out with the Councilor who used to sit in that seat and the Chief Engineer. Davin had publicly exposed Councilor Troyan’s role in ordering Davin’s assassination without knowledge or approval of the rest of the Council. The Council had responded by turning their backs on Troyan, effectively dismissing him from the Council. Another had been chosen to take his place representing the clerical trades and now sat in the seat.

“The assassin was captured and held briefly,” Councilor Gildereth said. “He managed to escape in the tumult. I believe there are too many Breeds in Davin’s facility given too much freedom. The throwback demands it be that way. The security there is lax in my opinion.” The Councilor sniffed, elegantly expressing his mild disdain for the way things had been handled.

“Do recall the assassin was our best. The man was a Prime with superior skills. I, for one, would have been disappointed if he had not escaped,” Councilor Orin added. Grady Prime’s curiosity rose another notch, though he wisely kept silent.

A Prime had been the secret assassin? A winged assassin? Grady Prime thought he knew all the Primes. There were comparatively few of that elite rank. One headed each genetic line. Only one Prime had died in the past few years, and he’d been of warrior stock.

“Sinclair Prime Past had wings?” Grady Prime wasn’t reprimanded for speaking out of turn. Rather, most of the Councilors seemed pleased he’d pieced together the obvious clues to arrive at his conclusion.

Grady Prime had known the former Sinclair Prime, designated Sinclair Prime Past now that he was no longer the current Prime. They’d trained together on a few memorable occasions, though Sinclair Prime’s posted territory lay far to the west. Still, they’d run joint exercises from time to time. Grady Prime had never suspected Sinclair Prime of being anything other than a remarkably talented example of the Alvian warrior class.

“Indeed. Sinclair Prime Past and also the new Sinclair Prime and the entire squad he commands are winged. They are hybrids, created from a base of Alvian warrior DNA of several different genetic lines, plus traits taken from preserved Avarel genetic samples. Specifically, we chose the traits that would enable a man to fly.” The Councilor who spoke was of the science branch, a woman of the Ardarin genetic line.

Grady Prime was stunned to learn they’d created a whole squadron of soldiers who could fly under their own power. He was also amazed they’d been able to keep such an experiment secret from everyone—including him—though he prided himself on knowing things that were hidden from others.

“I should start by talking to the current Sinclair Prime and some of Prime Past’s men. I’ll need insight into the individual before I can begin to assess where he might be hiding. I thought I knew Sinclair Prime Past well, having worked with him on several occasions. I see now I did not. I had no idea he, or any of his men, had wings. If he could keep that secret, he probably had many other secrets it would be helpful to know before I set out on his trail.”

“You also need to know that he was the first test subject in Mara 12’s experiment—even before the current batch, of which you are part. He was nearing retirement, and we allowed Mara 12 to proceed with one test case before approving her larger experiment. Sinclair Prime Past volunteered and was dosed with the gene-altering agent approximately one week before the rogue Council member activated him to assassinate Chief Engineer Davin. Mara 12 was disappointed with his disappearance of course. Since he had survived the initial dosage, we allowed her to continue her experiment.” Councilor Ardarin filled him in on the details. “More troubling was his failure to comply with a Councilor’s orders after the treatment, though we are satisfied with the result, since the rest of us did not authorize Chief Engineer Davin’s death.”

So tidy, Grady Prime thought. They spoke of people’s lives like tokens on a game board. They were troubled by the fact that their pet assassin hadn’t followed orders to kill an innocent man. They were disappointed that they’d lost their test subject—a man who was one of the most important in Alvian society as a Prime. To them he was only a game piece. Grady Prime’s eyes were opened to the callousness of the Council. He’d never felt warmly toward any of them, but now, with new emotions flooding his confused brain, he detested them. Truly loathed each and every one of them.

He dared not let it show. He’d come this far by pretending to be as cool and calm as he’d always been. He wouldn’t mess it up now. Not after spending the past weeks under intense scrutiny by Mara 12 and her team of ghouls.

All the test subjects were being monitored every waking moment it seemed. They were watched in their quarters and guarded even in their sleep. There were only a few people in this first—or make that second—group of Alvians to be given the gene-altering agent, and each was reacting somewhat differently. Most were calm fortunately. Those that spent time with Caleb O’Hara were doing the best. They were learning about emotion from a Breed they respected due to the predominance of Hara DNA in Caleb’s genealogy.

Also, Caleb was a strong presence. A leader of men. He’d led his family through the adversity of the crystal seeding—what the humans called the cataclysm¾and the lawless times after. He’d forged a path that kept his family safe and he knew how to inspire confidence, trust and even hope.

When Grady Prime had first sought Caleb’s company shortly after taking the drug, he knew Mara 12 had followed his every move. Every word of his initial conversation with Caleb and his nephew Harry had been recorded, analyzed and dissected. After their second discussion, Grady Prime had taken it upon himself to suggest to Mara 12 that introducing the other test subjects to Caleb or Harry would be helpful. She’d thought about his idea for a day or two, then arranged a group meeting at which both Caleb and Harry were the guests of honor.

Those group meetings had become a way for the test subjects to learn about integrating emotion from beings who already understood emotions. They were also a way for the test subjects to get to know each other. There were five in total. One had been a high-level bookkeeper who was retired and tasked to teach the younger generation. His name was Galin 4 and as the eldest of the group, he took on a patriarchal role toward the other three, who were all female and of subordinate personalities.

There was Linley 17, the eldest of the women, who’d been in charge of one of the largest crèche facilities where young were raised until the age of thirteen. Soft spoken and strong, she had been nearing retirement as well and had divulged her desire to understand the odd nurturing instincts she felt when dealing with her young charges.

Fian 34 had been a merchant arbiter who orchestrated trades of indigenous goods and supplies among the cities and sometimes for elite clients. She’d put her prosperous business on hold while taking part in the experiment and had hoped to be able to pick up her work as soon as Mara 12 was done with her. Fian 34 had an engaging personality and a quick wit. Grady Prime understood why she’d worked so well with people, sorting out differences of opinion and value of goods and services. He didn’t completely understand her motives in volunteering for this experiment, but he liked her as a person.

And the youngest of the group was a quiet lab tech called Jaci 647. Though she claimed to have volunteered, Grady Prime suspected the low-level tech had been ordered to participate by Mara 12. The girl was shy and very unsure of herself. She was nothing like the other Jaci lab tech Grady Prime had hunted for all those weeks. This Jaci was convinced of her inferiority and barely spoke. A few times, Grady Prime had walked in to a planned session with Caleb to find Jaci 647 there early, sobbing in the arms of Caleb O’Hara. The young girl was taking her new emotions hard. She cried a lot and spent the rest of the time jumping at every sound. If any of them were going to lose their minds because of this experiment, Grady Prime had to sadly admit, it would be her.

Grady Prime had managed to escape the constant monitoring only because the Council had summoned him to a secret session. He knew there was an escort waiting for him outside the door and the personal monitors would reactivate the moment the Council turned off their dampening fields. He didn’t like living under a microscope.

The more his emotions manifested, the more he realized he’d done the right thing in volunteering for the experiment. He liked feeling. He liked having an opinion based not only on dry facts, but also on emotion. He liked being—almost—human. And the effects would only deepen the longer the DNA-altering agent worked through his system, changing him forever on a molecular level.

“We are troubled by the Breed rumors of an angel. The idea that a winged man is out there somewhere seems to inspire unrest in the Breeds. We prefer them to be calm as we continue our studies.” Grady Prime realized how little Councilor Ardarin understood emotion and the Breeds her scientists studied. The unrest, as she described it, was probably a manifestation of hope.

Hope was something Alvians no longer comprehended. They also had no understanding of the finer emotions, the most important of which was love. Grady Prime had experienced fondness and something he suspected was love when he thought of the O’Hara children and the open way they’d always greeted him when he visited their ranch in the wilds of the Waste. He wasn’t sure. The emotion those memories stirred was powerful and touching, inspiring his protective instincts. He hadn’t had a chance to really talk about it with Caleb, but he thought what he felt in those moments was something like a paternal instinct to care for and protect the young.

“Are you certain these rumors refer to the missing Prime Past? It is possible—however unlikely—that members of the secret winged squadron have been observed.”

“True,” Councilor Gildereth admitted. “That is why you will begin your inquiries with his squadron.”

“We know you are under monitoring by Mara 12, and we have made allowances for the monitoring to continue on a limited basis,” Councilor Ardarin continued. “However, we believe at the current rate of DNA assimilation, you will be ready for the next phase of Mara 12’s study by next week. Phase Two of the study involves observing the test subject under conditions similar to their normal working conditions. The other four test subjects will be monitored in the city as they go about their tasks. Your work will have to be monitored from afar as you conduct your investigation. I will personally filter the feeds from your data collection unit and pass on relevant data to Mara 12. Even she is unaware of the Avarel hybridization experiment. That honor was given to Mara Prime alone. It is with him you will work upon reaching the squadron’s secret base of operations. You are not to discuss this case with anyone other than Mara Prime or this Council. You may question the winged squadron at your discretion. They will be instructed to cooperate fully with your investigation.”

“I will most likely need to spend time in the terrain, searching the area around the squadron’s base for signs of trespass. I may also need to track Sinclair Prime Past in remote areas, depending on what I find.”

“We have thought of that and will trust in your discretion. This investigation is of great importance to the Council. You are uniquely qualified—both by your past demonstration of skill and your current status and understanding of what the Past Prime may be experiencing as a test subject. We want you on this mission. We will work with Mara 12. If necessary, we will make allowances for gaps in monitoring while you are in areas that are too remote for reliable signal relay.” The head of the Council had just eased Grady Prime’s mind, but he tried hard not to let it show. He might have a few days free of the constant monitoring. It was a blessing in disguise for a man who had always valued his privacy.

“Mara 12 has four other subjects in the current batch,” Councilor Ardarin said. “If necessary, we can authorize her to select another warrior to test since she wanted a broad range of work specialties represented. One more soldier, more or less, should not be that much of a problem.”

Grady Prime bit his lip to keep from expressing his disgust at such a cavalier attitude. Each and every one of his men was a special being. They were his brothers in arms, his only family. They dedicated their lives to protecting all Alvians, at the Council’s direction. To hear them discussed in such disrespectful terms was both abhorrent and eye opening.

“You have authorization to travel to the winged squadron’s base as soon as Mara 12 clears you. We expect that to be early next week. Please have your gear in order and be ready to leave at any moment. We will have a ship sent from the base to conduct you there, as its location is a closely guarded secret.” Councilor Hearn spoke in a monotonous tone, as if reciting a list. “Fare well on your mission and report directly to the Council as soon as you have any news. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Grady Prime stood strong before the Council, his gaze assessing each and every one of them. “What do you want me to do with Sinclair Past Prime if and when I find him?”

Councilor Gildereth turned to look at him, his expression blank. “I thought that was obvious. You are authorized to kill him.”

A few days later, Grady Prime sat for yet another of the invasive medical examinations Mara 12’s techs and doctors treated the test subjects to on a regular basis. They collected all kinds of samples from him, running a multitude of tests on every imaginable bodily system.

“You’re at eighty-five percent conversion,” the doctor stated as he stared at the instrumentation panel on his diagnostic unit. “We’ve hypothesized that the last few percentages take longer to assimilate. The rapid integration of the new DNA sequences have slowed and will continue to decelerate as propagation nears completion.”

“Then I’ll have less mood swings now that the conversion is almost complete?”

“Most likely, though of course we need more data from yourself and your fellow subjects before we can make any conclusions. But that is the working theory.”

“Excellent.”

“We have notice from the Council that you are to be released from sequestered study when integration reached this level.” The doctor squinted, a faint echo of annoyance. “It would be better to have you here for study until the new DNA sequences are fully integrated. Of course, Council orders come first. Thank you for your cooperation over these past weeks. It has been agreeable to work with you, Grady Prime. I wish you well.”

That was more than Grady Prime had expected from the austere doctor. He stood from the examination table and gave the other man a short bow as he left.

When Grady Prime returned to his quarters, he found a communication from the Council waiting for him. A ship was already on its way to retrieve him for the mission he’d been assigned last week. Word of his status had traveled fast, he thought, as he packed a few small personal items in the bag he’d had ready for days.

He’d thought his days of traveling light and fast had ended when he volunteered for Mara 12’s experiment. He had gladly traded the enjoyable aspects of his job for the chance to finally understand the faint echoes of emotion he’d been subject to over the years. Now he was to have both. He had been given a chance not only to do the job he loved—and he realized now that he truly loved his occupation as a protector and defender of innocent people—but to do it, experiencing the new emotions that had been making his life fuller and more robust over the past weeks.

He felt a sense of hopeful anticipation that made his abdomen bubble with excitement. His blood sang for adventure, and his muscles quivered to be off. Adrenaline rushed through his system even though there was no immediately perceived threat. The only times he’d experienced an adrenaline rush before, he’d been in mortal danger. He’d lived for those times when he felt…something.

Now he was discovering he could feel that same rush of energy without the life or death circumstances. He could feel the same determination to survive—multiplied tenfold—without doing anything but thinking of what was to come. It was a fantastic thing. Something he wanted to explore further. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. A second communication to his personal unit directed him to meet a specific scout ship at the landing area.

A brisk walk down a maze of corridors and he was in the sunshine. The yellow sun of Earth was a beautiful sight to a man who’d spent decades on a space ship preparing to land and who-knows-how-many years before that in stasis on the same ship, preserved by the ship’s computers for the long journey here.

Grady Prime loved everything about their new home. The wild places called to him and he thought back fondly on the times he’d camped out in the forests and deserts, doing his job. He wondered where the hidden base would be. Would it be in a forest, surrounded by towering trees? Or would it be on the rocky slopes of the highest mountains, covered in snow? Would he be going to a desert? Or would it be a secluded tropical island? He was eager to explore all those possibilities.

There was a spring in his step as he entered the landing area and located the ship. It was a small, nondescript transport, with nothing to differentiate it from any of the others sitting nearby. Grady Prime recognized the pilot leaning against the fuselage, waiting for him. The man had been Sinclair 2 until the disappearance of the Past Prime. Grady Prime supposed he was Sinclair Prime now, though in rare instances rankings didn’t always follow predictable patterns.

“Grady Prime, it is good to see you again.” The other soldier held out his hand for a greeting of equals, signaling his new status in a subtle yet undeniable way. Grady Prime returned the gesture.

“Congratulations on your ascension to Prime.”

“Thank you, though it was not something I had anticipated or needed.” A dark look passed over the new Prime’s face as they both turned toward the open ship. “But we will talk of that as we travel. I’ve been instructed to speak to you as if to one of my men, which is something unexpected, yet welcome.”

Grady Prime waited to speak until the hatch was closed behind them. “I assume the ship is secure?”

“It is. And I assume you were also granted leave to be candid with me about the reason for your new assignment?”

“To a certain extent,” Grady Prime allowed. This new Prime had earned his respect as a young officer when their respective squadrons had trained together. This man, in particular, had saved the lives of several of his men when a malfunction had caused the young soldiers to become trapped in a burning ship. He had darker coloring than most Alvians, with a burnished gold light in his longer-than-regulation hair and a healthy, golden tan to his skin.

“As second in command, I was aware of the genetic modifications for which my former Prime volunteered. I was even tasked by Mara Prime to observe Prime Past after he took the treatment. I know you’ve become part of the follow-up study.”

“Are you observing me as well?” Grady raised one eyebrow as they settled into their seats, and Sinclair Prime started the engine.

The new Prime laughed. “No. I’m through spying on my friends. I hope I can call you that, Grady Prime. I have had great respect for your abilities and your style of leadership for many years.”

“And I have admired your courage since the training mishap,” Grady Prime allowed.

As they rose above the city, Sinclair Prime turned to him. “We are completely unmonitored in this ship. Now that I’m Prime, I find myself in a unique position. I never expected Prime Past to abandon me or the squad. He was our leader and I always thought that if and when he stepped down from that role, he’d still be around to guide me as I took over. I’ve had to fly blind more than I ever anticipated, and I’m afraid the squad has suffered for it.”

Most startling to Grady Prime was the real echo of fear and uncertainty he could hear in the young Prime’s voice. “The Council told me you were created from a combination of Alvian and Avarel DNA. I know from personal experience that soldier stock is more aggressive and has more remnants of feeling than our less combative Alvian brethren. You have an added element in your DNA. I’ve been wondering since I found out about it, what that entails for your emotions.”

Respect showed on the young Prime’s face. “We feel more. It’s not something we encourage and not something we talk about, but it’s been documented. We don’t have real emotions. We feel stronger echoes than even the most aggressive of warrior lines. It’s what made Prime Past volunteer for the first experiment. He told me so himself.”

Grady Prime was silent as he thought through that revelation. He’d liked this young officer for a long time and liked even more the honesty with which he seemed to want to start their closer working relationship. Here was an ally.

“That’s the very reason I chose to participate in the experiment. All my life I felt these echoes of…something. And then as I observed the Breeds interacting, I wanted to understand them. I wanted to feel. Just once, before I die.”

“Are you that certain it will kill you? Prime Past seemed to think it would free him, not kill him.”

“I’m fairly certain it will drive me mad in the end. I’ve made a study of our history and that is the fate of most unmated males. I have little hope I will find a Resonance Mate to keep the madness at bay. Our women have no understanding of emotion and rarely resonate with anyone. I had some small hope about the three women in the study with me, but I’ve touched them all and there was not a single Hum to be heard.”

“What about a human woman?” Sinclair Prime shot him a questioning look and it was not lost on Grady Prime that he used the word the Breeds called themselves. Somehow this soldier had contact with the Breeds and had come to be familiar with their language.

“There are so few. It hardly seems fair to seek among them. After what our people have done to them, it’s unlikely any of them will accept an Alvian—much less a warrior Prime¾as her mate. I had some small hope of it before emotion began to manifest. I understand the impossibility of it now. Most of them will never forgive us for what we’ve done to their planet and to them.”

“The Chief Engineer has a human mate.”

“Callie was the exception to the rule, as was Davin. He was a throwback to begin with. He always had emotions. And Callie is an empath. She understands him in a way few people can.”

“You know them?”

“I’ve known Callie since she was a baby. She is a beautiful woman, inside and out. As is her mother.”

“I didn’t realize you had such close contact with them.”

“I visited the family often as part of Mara 12’s guard. Then in later years, I would go out to drop off supplies and pick up data collected by Mick O’Hara. Sometimes I shared meals with the family. They are a boisterous group with many young who are curious enough to ask impertinent questions.” A smile curved his lips as Grady Prime thought of the O’Hara clan.

“You like them,” Sinclair Prime accused with a smile.

“Yes,” Grady acknowledged. “I feel great affection for them all.” Now there was a statement. Grady Prime still marveled at the fact that he actually could feel things. “They were kind to me when I couldn’t appreciate it and have continued to be so. Caleb O’Hara is helping counsel those of us in Mara 12’s experiment and he has been of great help.”

“You are fortunate to have an ally to aid you in this trial. I was briefed on the experiment before Prime Past took part in the initial experiment. Part of my duty was to observe him, since my normal duties involve routine observation of highly placed Alvian citizens.”

“Then you’re¾”

“Zxerah. The whole squad is. We are part of the ghost squadron, and you are among the very few to know that for certain outside the Council.”

Grady Prime was shocked. “I was going to guess ghost squadron. I’ll admit you’ve taken me by surprise with talk of the Zxerah Brotherhood. I thought they were only a myth from ancient times.”

“I can assure you, we are very real. All of us with wings are Zxerah. No winged soldiers exist beyond the Brotherhood, but there are more Zxerah who are unable to fly. The Patriarch authorized me to speak freely to you. For some reason, he believes you may hold the key to our future plans.”

“I’ve heard rumors of a ghost squadron. I discounted most of the wilder claims about them. Even the worst of the conspiracy theories never mentioned the Brotherhood. All Zxerah were supposed to have been lost before the migration.”

“Not all,” Sinclair Prime said. “A few survived to pass down the skills. It was the Patriarch who first put forward the idea of adding Avarel DNA to our line. A previous Patriarch had approached Mara Prime Past with the idea two generations ago. He was refused. The current Patriarch reissued the request once we awakened on the ship and the current Mara Prime agreed to try, with approval of the High Council. My squadron and I are the result. Other Zxerah were not given wings to act as a control group. They continue to live in a secret enclave.”

Grady Prime knew the history. The Zxerah were a warrior clan that had lived in a remote mountain region of the home world. They had not had contact with the outside world, but had allowed pilgrims to join their ranks if they proved worthy. They had lived ascetic lives, studying fighting and concealment arts day and night. They had been accredited with feats of skill, strength, endurance, stealth and bravery that were so fantastic as to be unbelievable. Most Alvians thought they had died off before the mass exodus from the home system.

Perhaps not. That there was a Zxerah Patriarch still living was incredible. All modern Alvians were separated by genetic lines, each holding a rank within their genetic line based on age, skill, accomplishments and other factors. Primes were the best of the best of their line. No line had a Patriarch. Such designations had died out as the geneticists took control of the vast majority of Alvian reproduction.

The Zxerah had always been different. If any group could retain their ancient identity, even with the changes wrought to all Alvian DNA, it would be them. Grady Prime also supposed that the Council liked having the Zxerah to use as a secret, deadly and highly skilled weapon. No wonder they let them keep their anonymity.

“I’m impressed and astonished,” Grady Prime admitted. “I thought the Zxerah were only a legend. But if any Alvian sought the power to fly, it would be the fabled Zxerah. I should not have been so quick to credit the scientists for coming up with the idea.”

“The Zxerah had the Avarel genetic samples. Avarel kept in contact with the Zxerah long after they’d cut off communications with the rest of our race. It is said the Avarel respected our ability to control our aggressive tendencies and our desire to seek enlightenment. The Zxerah embraced the genetic changes the geneticists proposed many generations ago, always looking for ways to improve themselves. The Patriarch told me he had begun to believe we’d gone too far. Control of destructive emotion is a good thing, so the ancient teachings say, but complete lack of emotion is not. The Patriarch had hoped the addition of Avarel DNA would return what was lost in addition to giving us the ability to fly. It worked to a very limited degree. As I said, we feel more than other soldier lines. It’s still not much. We don’t really understand humans at all, though we try.”

“Your revelations astound me.” Grady Prime wasn’t sure why he was being trusted with such sensitive information and was wary of it.

“I tell you this now, so you will understand what you see when you meet my men. We are all winged, and we are all Zxerah.” Sinclair Prime faced him in the small cockpit. “Mara Prime is our keeper, our observer. We also observe him, and many other top Alvians as part of our duty to both the Council and the Zxerah Patriarch. Our allegiance is to the Alvian race, not necessarily the Council. Too often of late, they have asked things of us, which make us uncomfortable. Capturing humans is one example.”

Grady Prime sighed with regret. “I have done my share of capture at their direction. My only defense is that I didn’t understand the implications of my actions. It is no excuse, and I will spend the rest of my days regretting what I’ve done to certain people.”

“I hoped you would say that. I must ask that if you do find Prime Past, you take that into consideration. It is my belief that he failed to kill his assigned target specifically for that reason. He was not a man who could miss a target. If he did, it was deliberate, and he had to have had a good reason for it.”

“You feel strongly about this,” Grady Prime observed.

“I do. Though the irony of your wording is not lost on me. It is because Prime Past was starting to manifest feelings that I believe he acted in such a way. I’ve had many months to think about this, and it’s the only conclusion that makes sense.”

“You understand I’ve been tasked to hunt him?”

Sinclair Prime nodded, turning back to the controls. “I do. I want you to find him, and will assist in that endeavor. What happens after that is up to you. I hope you will find pity among your new emotions. Prime Past deserves whatever happiness he can find in his new life. I miss him and his counsel. We all do. His departure brought echoes of sorrow to all Zxerah and especially to those of us with wings. He was the best of us and whatever his path now, I know he will live with honor. He is a great man.”

“Then why do you want me to find him? I’m ordered to kill him.” Grady Prime was blunt on purpose. He wanted to see how the new Prime would react.

“Several reasons. First, I want him to know what I’ve told you. He deserves to know that the Brotherhood, at least, has not abandoned him. Second, I’d like him to know that others have followed his path and taken the treatment that changed him so radically. It is my hope that you will find some common ground. Perhaps you could help each other.”

“You want us to become friends? Do you suppose sharing the burden of emotions will draw us together?” Grady Prime injected sarcasm into his words, trying to provoke the other man.

“I hope for that. Yes.” Sinclair Prime agreed, surprising him. “If your test group does well, more Alvians will undergo the treatment. It is what the Patriarch wants. My duty is to help Mara 12’s experiment succeed. I believe if you can discuss your condition with Prime Past, you may gain insight about how to move forward.”

The young man had nerve. Grady Prime would give him that.

“I can make no promises. When I find Prime Past, I’ll keep your words in mind, but will have to make my decision when the time comes.”

“I know you to be a fair and honorable man,” Sinclair Prime said after a moment. “I’ll trust your judgment when the time comes. Do not underestimate Prime Past. You may be the Prime of your own talented line, but Prime Past is that and Zxerah too. He has skills beyond your comprehension.”

“Perhaps after this is all over, I could learn some of those skills,” Grady Prime offered, only half joking. He was a soldier who enjoyed learning new methods. If there were truly Zxerah left in the universe, he would be a fool not to seek them out for training.

Sinclair Prime looked at him consideringly. “Perhaps.”