Children Of A Greater Evil: 21st Testing Protocol Book 2 Read online

  “Because their files were changed. The names they used don’t exist, and the files that would give us the answers also don’t exist.”

  That stopped her raging, and she stilled, turning her gaze to the man in front of her. “Changed? How?”

  “It’s a simple matter of changing the encryption log, senator. I’ve got people working on it. Have had for months, but the system keeps overloading or imploding, depending on how we attack each backup. Our best minds haven’t been able to overcome the fail-safes they instituted in the programming.”

  At every turn, her team remained stymied. Daniella rubbed her now aching brow, trying to consider options. This situation had to be closed down as soon as possible, but unless they could find the head of the beast, it would be like the legend of Medusa with heads growing back at twice the rate. “What about Clarissa? Can she—”

  “Already tried it. And before you ask, we’ve already attempted to clone her data sequencing. No success. Colvert’s newest files are also encrypted, using a different set of parameters. We’re having even less luck as the kill commands are more robust and better hidden. Someone on Colvert’s side knows his stuff.”

  Daniella groaned. “Okay, so we’ve had no luck so far with anything in over, what? Twelve months? How did you get on with the current patient files?”

  “As far as we can tell, he hadn’t yet entered them into his system, so there’s nothing to track. We think it’s because Colvert likely had paper-based copies, which he subsequently destroyed. Or e-versions encoded to destruct under certain circumstances. We’ve only tracked down four hundred of his more recent patients, and while some chose to take immediate action, the rest are now receiving extended care through our safe network of specialists. Our genetic testing is showing that these children received advanced nanos that don’t carry the same issues as earlier iterations, though we won’t be completely sure for some time.”

  “Fine then. See if you can get Colvert to assist.” A long shot, she knew, but her team could be mighty persuasive.

  “Can’t do. Colvert attempted suicide three nights ago, and we can’t use him in the short term.”

  That news crashed down on her. “Why wasn’t I informed?” Breathing became difficult, the oxygen sticking in her throat and lungs.

  “I tried communicating that, but if you remember, you were unavailable as there was a night vote, then you had a meeting with the president, followed by a security briefing, an overnight trip to—”

  Jonah’s words pealed over her. “Okay, so I’ve been harder than usual to get in contact with.” Daniella exhaled heavily. “We need to devise a more efficient system for sharing intelligence.” The instant the words were out, his mouth thinned.

  It wasn’t his fault she’d been hard to contact. Nor was it hers. The demands of her senatorial position and the high security of this case meant he couldn’t just leave her a message on her communicator, nor could he explain it to her personal assistant, Kallee.

  His jacket snagged, and he reached to the back of his head and hissed, face pulling tight and paling.

  “What’s wrong?” Daniella was half out of her chair as he waved her back. “Nothing. I just had a run-in with some teeth.”

  “Teeth? The kid bit you?” A rumble of anger started in her belly. “Have you sought medical assistance?”

  His lopsided grin further destabilized her emotions. “The professor took care of it. He seemed to think it was important it be dealt with immediately too.”

  Now that she looked at Jonah more closely, it was clear the exhaustion wasn’t a short- term situation. “When was the last time you and the team had a break?”

  He laughed. “Why? Going to force us to shut down?”

  The bite of sarcasm was hard to accept. Daniella straightened her spine. “No. But you’ve been run ragged with this, and we need to recharge our batteries. Perhaps a break will give us time to re-assess what we’ve achieved and how to move forward.”

  “You’re the boss, senator. Whatever you decide is what will happen.” He stood, brushed off his jacket, and the action grew in her mind, like an omen. Her stomach clenched.

  “Fine then. I’ll be in touch after the reading of the bill.”

  Now he frowned and leaned heavily on the chair. “They’re still pushing it through after all the information we’ve tabled?”

  Daniella nodded. “They want the protocol passed by the end of the year. If I could tell the others why it’s a bad choice, I know they’d understand and pull it, but right now, without any evidence to show who’s pulling strings, I don’t dare make full disclosure. President Yin agrees. We need to continue and hope we can uncover who’s behind the plot before it can go much further. But there’s only one more reading and the final vote after today.”

  Unconsciously, Daniella lifted her thumb and bit down on the nail. The crunch centered her attention, and she groaned, dropping her hand down to her side.

  “Go back to the office, bed down the report, then you’re off duty at least until tomorrow morning,” she ordered. “If I need you, I’ll be in contact.”

  He straightened to attention, feet clapping together as he saluted, then left her, alone and confused in the office, wondering how the hell they could sort this mess out.

  Chapter 3

  The senate was full, everyone attending in their official capacity, along with the largest recorded audience to see democracy in action. Except Daniella knew there was nothing democratic about the process unfolding before her eyes.

  “The 21st Testing Protocol will allow us to seek the best and strongest among us. Allow us to preserve our way of life. To keep our homeworld safe and secure.”

  God help her, she wanted to vomit as Senior House Opposition Senator Delspar spouted the lines they’d instituted in their media campaign. The Protocol wasn’t about truth. It was to enable the military to detect and seize the children for their benefit.

  The only thing was, at least they’d have time to fight, even if the policy moved on to the next reading. After all, it would be years before the first of the genetically engineered children reached the required twenty-first birthday. Except something felt wrong about the scenario and the speed at which they wanted to shunt it through.

  “We seek not to remove people’s freedoms, but to request sectors of our community, those most capable...” Delspar paused for effect, scanning the crowd who lapped it up and smiling in a mock-benign fashion. “...to protect our sovereign state.”

  Daniella’s fingers curled as she sat, perched on the edge of her seat, stomach congealing in a mass of nerves.

  “We don’t believe that the selection should begin immediately. We feel that a process of education and preparation should begin soon, but that it will take years to implement the process, to set in train the equipment and testing regime. We are therefore seeking a ten-year lead in process—beginning immediately—where we meet and process the evaluation of those who would be our forerunners. Those who’ll be the first of the class, so to speak.”

  Those words hit her like a fist in the stomach. Ten years. Evaluating those who’d be the first. The genetically engineered children who would be turning twenty-one as the front runners were little more than children now. The first intake barely eleven now.

  What was being suggested was that they already be tagged, and their education prospects amended to their specific skillset. Her mouth dried at the thought of them taking children into the twisted regime they proposed.

  Daniella had expected to hear of the introduction within twelve months, then to start with a planning process of several years before moving onto trials.

  A ripple of uncertainty spread through the crowd, echoes of whispers a wave that washed over her. Maybe all wasn’t lost? Delspar, the career politician who’d been groomed since his early twenties—some two decades ago—frowned at the sound. She could see the way his eyes moved, considering and weighing options on how best to sway opinion in the chamber.

  He shook his head—the mane of silver locks he’d kept artfully long and curled shivered in response—his hand extended, and the crowd responded, settling and hushing to hear more. “No, no, no! Clinical testing and trials will be taking place, and a suitably chosen expert providing leadership. It will all be for the benefit of our people. When taken in tandem with the push to populate the planet of Centaura Minor, we will be advertising ourselves as adventurers and colonizers. We open ourselves to a level of visibility our species has never before faced, and as a result, to increased danger from without. Our testing regime and training must be completely re-examined. The ever-changing needs of our military forces demand consideration. This is why we need the time and funding. This must be a project of planetary significance. It requires immediate and adequate funding, ensuring our success. That is why the 21st Testing Protocol requires enaction now! To provide certainty for our future and those of our children.”

  Delspar flung his hands out and upward, affecting a supplication, and the cheers rose, a wild cacophony that echoed in the chamber. His dominant performance spelled the death-knell of their hopes.

  He turned, faced Daniella across the table, and smiled.

  Your turn. The words and sentiment were there in his gaze.

  Then he collected his sheaf of papers and returned to his seat. It was theater, and given the hollers and hoots, he’d done his job. It would be a hard act to follow. Daniella would start with her appeal then move in with the facts and figures—the little she could share anyway.

  Daniella rose, stepped up to the speaker’s box, and inhaled. “I come not to argue that our needs are not foremost in planning for the future. To remain unprepared for the eventualities that could exist once we move beyond our planet and solar system would be madness. However, at what point are the needs of the few so carelessly and cavalierly thrown to the four winds? We claim to love our children, and yet we, as legislators, are removing rights from children who are born. Those who have begun contributing to our society. When did their needs become unimportant?”

  The first whispers began, dissent growing, but not against the regime—no, against those who fought the protocol implementation. She’d expected it, though not as vociferously or viciously relayed. A woman screamed at her, the words lost in the echoing chamber.

  She glanced up, addressing the gallery. “Your children. Your grandchildren. They are the ones who will pay. They are the ones who won’t have a say—”

  The words had barely left her mouth when an object struck, hitting her in the head. She fell as blood spattered her hands and the seat in front of her, and uproar ensued.

  Guards took position around the senators, while the plasglass emergency screens shot up, protecting those in the chamber from the gallery. Someone grabbed her, dragged her from the podium to the seats behind, and she slumped boneless to the floor. Her mind spun in circles and she couldn’t tell who assisted her. Gray mist formed around her mind as the pain ricocheted throughout her system, then exploded and stole her senses and she fainted.

  Coming back to reality, the ache in her head pounded as people milled around her. “What happened?”

  A doctor, clad in a white coat, stepped in front of her and batted away the hand she’d raised to feel the damage. “You were hit at the beginning of the vote.” Her stomach bottomed out. “They stopped the vote?”

  His gaze met hers. “No.”

  She knew what that meant. The vote was lost.

  Chapter 4

  Settling onto his bed, Jonah tugged off his shoes. “Oh, man!” His body ached, and his eyes were like sandpits—gritty and sore—while sleep was little more than a desperate dream from long ago.

  Pondering his choices of stripping down or crawling on the bed fully clothed was replaced by ‘who cares?’ as he lay back. The soft, pillowy surface beneath him seductive as it lulled him.

  Jonah closed his eyes, sighing and allowing his mind to wander. His brain began to settle, and sleep curled itself around him. Then the peal of his communicator split the air. He jerked back to wakefulness. For a second he considered ignoring it, but instead he burrowed his hand into the pocket of his pants and retrieved the tiny device.

  “Yeah? Hello?”

  “Where are you?” Michael asked.

  He shot up in the bed, knowing that Michael would have only contacted him from his honeymoon in an exceptional circumstance. He opened his eyes as his mind whirred back into action. “What’s up?”

  “There was an attack at the senate. Daniella was hurt.” Michael’s terse wording increased the suddenly ragged cadence of his heart rate.

  “What? I’m on my way.”

  Even as he shoved his feet into the shoes he’d just discarded, he dialed the senator’s security team office. No answer. He tried again, and still there was no answer.

  Fury peaked inside him, and he contacted Kallee. When she picked up, he ignored all pleasantries. “Is she all right?”

  “Jonah? Yeah, kind of. Look, are you—”

  “I’ll be there in ten. I’m coming in hot with sirens and lights.”

  “Good. Use the side entrance and engage the armor. You may need it.”

  Nausea rose and he shoved it away, pounding through his apartment to the front door. It slammed behind him, but he ignored that, knowing his locks would kick in automatically. His car sat in its spot, and he remotely started the engine before tugging the door open and sliding inside. “Senate House. Side entrance at speed. Full armament. Lights and sirens.”

  The vehicle moved—auto-driver engaged—pushing the car into traffic while the blare had people moving out of his path as it rocketed forward. The town passed by in a blur as he called up the secure feed and rewound long enough to view the attack on the chamber.

  “Fucking assholes.” Nothing else seemed appropriate as his shoulders set in an attitude of rage. His hands fisted. He’d find who did this, and they’d face retribution.

  Daniella. He saw the blood on the screen. His brain felt tight, as if ready to explode.

  “I’ll kill them,” he vented before grappling with the morass of emotions. This ball of seething rage wouldn’t help her now. The best thing he could do was get her home, where she would be safe. Then he’d call the team together, because this smelled like a setup.

  Rewinding the video, he watched every movement, pinpointed the location of the combatant, and grimaced as he realized they’d been fully aware of the eyes in the ceiling and walls. They’d been careful to hide behind others so no identification could be made.

  “Goddammit!” His hand thudded the steering wheel.

  “Do you require the vehicle to stop?” the automated voice asked.

  “Negative. Proceed to the set location.”

  The building loomed, the stone structure imposing, and he took control of the vehicle, smoothly navigating to a small side door very few knew of. He jumped out of the car, pressing his hand to the print reader before gazing at the retinal scanner.

  The door slid wide, and Kallee, a small woman with dark hair and worried brown eyes, met him. “She’s coming now.”

  The door behind Kallee slid open, and Daniella appeared, the pristine white pantsuit she’d worn rumpled and bloodstained, her hair matted, and a doctor in a white coat was keeping her upright, muttering about foolish women.

  “You’re her escort?” The doctor pinned him with a sharp gaze.

  Jonah reached out, needing to be sure she was still alive, and disbelieving of what he saw. Instinct forced him to cup her jaw, inspect the darkening bruise and jagged injury. “Yes. I’m taking her to a secure location.”

  “She has a slight concussion. Will there be a medic on hand in case she takes a turn for the worse?”

  Jonah’s blood curdled. “Is she likely to?” Maybe we should stay here until the danger has passed. The thoughts made no sense, but it was all he could do right now to hold onto his sanity in the face of her injury and weakness.

  “No. But I want some assurance my patient will receive adequate care. Otherwise, I’m not—”

  He released the breath he’d held onto at the doctor’s words. It whistled through his teeth, and he gritted them together, thinking swiftly before answering. “Rest assured. I have a physician I can call in at a moment’s notice should it be required. Is this the worst of it?” Jonah indicated to the head wound.

  “Yes. She needs to be watched, fluids, and rest. Nothing more.”

  Jonah grunted his response, slid his arm around Daniella—the senator, he reminded himself—and tugged her close. “Thanks.”

  She was shaky—wobbly and unbalanced—and on an oath, Jonah picked her up in his arms.

  “What are you...” Her voice slurred, and he held her just a little tighter until she wiggled.

  “Shh, senator. I’m going to put you in the car as quickly as I can, then we’re getting out of here.”

  With care, he slid her onto the seat, fastened her seatbelt under the watchful gaze of both the doctor and her PA, then closed the door with a soft thud before he stalked around to the other side.

  Just before he clambered inside, he turned back and pinned Kallee with his glare. “I’ll get them, and they’ll wish they hadn’t done this.”

  He dropped into the seat, closed the door as rage simmered below the surface. They’d pay. No one hurt the senator; on his watch or not.

  The hazy film that inhabited Daniella’s consciousness dissipated slowly, like a frost on a cold winter’s morning. She vaguely remembered Jonah lifting her into the vehicle and the sense of movement. Now peeking through the veil of her eyelashes, she noted the tension in his jaw. A muscle ticked in his cheek, and his gaze narrowed as he concentrated on driving.

  “You were supposed to be home. Sleeping.” Her voice echoed in the silence.