The rite of passage from innocent dove to clever snake.

Stage 14

The rite of passage from innocent dove to clever snake.

The footage was clearly security grade, but the angle of the camera indicated that whoever recorded this had seated it on top of a table. The obvious conclusion was that it had been obfuscated in some fashion.

Richard must have been in his late thirties. In the video, he looked strong and vibrant; there wasn't a speck of gray on his mane of jet black hair. Miranda couldn't identify the woman sitting next to him, but for some reason she thought she had seen the youth before. Next to the mysterious (and rather young) woman was a man in his late sixties. Though his hair was completely gray, he had a powerfully built upper torso. There was a striking resemblance between him and the girl. The last to be seated was none other than Zechariah himself.

Miranda could feel his arm tense around her waist as he watched a moment of his past come to life. In the video, Zechariah appeared to be in a heightened state of agitation. There was no audio stream at first. Then the video jumped ahead briefly and the sound kicked in.

"So Richard, what do you think about young Zechariah?" The old man's voice was strong, gravelly almost in its quality.

"His power is the extraordinary example of what we've been hoping for, General. Not only can he mimic and use the powers of those he comes into contact with, but we also suspect that his paradox has the ability to absorb the knowledge of those he touches. It appears that he can replicate any power both he and his paradox come in contact with. Additionally, he is able to replicate personality and mannerisms, and recall memories, but with the regrettable side effects we can—"

"So he's not like Carmen here, then?"

Miranda jumped at the name and Zechariah held her in place with his arm.

A small frown touched Richard's features for the interruption, but he answered nonetheless.

"No, sir… Carmen's paradox has the ability to foresee events before they occur. As for the primary…" he glanced over at Carmen with a gentle look, "…it's a power that can be useful if we can better understand how to control it."

The man referred to as general nodded and turned to look at the young woman, then addressed Richard, "Do you believe that Zechariah is the one?"

"I do, sir. When the manifestation came about, we took the originator's bio-rhythmics. He's made himself known as Zephaniah and Carmen's own originator have made a preliminary contact. In time, the paradox of Zechariah and Carmen will eventually unite to form a vinculum, but as of right now that has not occurred. As for Carmen's current primary-"

"That will be all, Richard. Thank you."

It took a moment for Richard to compose his features, but there was no shadow of a doubt that he was supremely pissed off. With a nod, he stood up and walked out of the camera's frame of view.

The older man stood and walked out of the camera's view for a moment, too, then returned to sit on the desk, looking at Carmen.

"Satisfied? Richard has no idea that you've actually been able to merge both aspects of your personality. He still thinks Carmen is a paradox."

The young girl looked up at him and smiled brightly, but there was something about the way she worded her sentence that gave Miranda a sudden chill.

"Thank you for the assurance, General. I do not feel that working under Richard will work to our advantage. Have you considered my proposal?"

The older man reached over and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Of course, I have Armyne. Have you considered mine?"

She smiled thinly and nodded.

"So long as I get what I want, you can have all of what you want."

The General then leaned in as if to kiss her and the video went dead.

Miranda was so absorbed in the footage of a young Carmen, no a young Armyne that she didn't realize how tightly Zechariah was clutching her.

"Armyne hasn't changed one iota."

"That was neither Armyne nor Carmen, Miranda."

Confusion flooded through her, then turned as best she could toward Zechariah.

"What do you mean that's not her? She hasn't changed…" Miranda fell silent, as her mind finished the statement. "…since she was a young girl. She hasn't changed, has she."

"Exactly. Isn't it strange that a young girl acts in the same manner as her adult self? I remember both of her personalities. Neither is represented here. Lian needs to know of this immediately. To think they were able to achieve a merger then…"

Zechariah relaxed his hold around her torso. She shifted enough so that she wasn't hurting her neck, even as he turned so that they could both look each other in the eye.

"Merger? What do you mean, merger?"

"Think back a decade or more. Do you recall the prevailing theory among scientists about the paradoxically Gifted?"

She twisted her face into a puzzle, so he continued.

"They believed paradoxically Gifted individuals were afflicted with a rare form of Dissociative Identity Disorder, one that obviously defied the accepted definition since there was no explanation for the lack of symptoms. Richard and a team of military scientists were charged with finding a scientific reasoning for this apparent mental defect. What they found was something far more unbelievable.

"For lack of a better word, all tests showed that each personality was completely autonomous, yet each identity could interact with the other to varying degrees without blackout periods. One scientist made the comment that it was like there were two separate, thinking cognitive entities residing within the same body."

Furrowing her brow, she ventured into more unknown territory. "As in… two souls?"

Zechariah nodded.

"Yes. 'Soul' is a word that could explain this phenomenon. Even today there is no consensus as to what term to use to describe the presence of two separate, but medically sane individuals, residing within one host.

"Each case revealed that there were two separate personalities within one member. The data supported the theory that the dominant personality was able to clearly recognize the duality, whilst the recessive personality had a more difficult time grasping the situation. In fact, the recessive personality would often create a rationale to explain the disconcerting sense of another 'self.'"

"My imaginary friend!" said Miranda.

"Yes. And also that 'small voice' or the 'conscience' as you grew older. My ability is the assimilation of information and expression of that information into action. I can touch a person and understand their motives and remember every aspect of it in detail, giving me the unique ability to have knowledge of their power, even to the extent of being able to use it, though with a basic level of expertise.

"Zephaniah on the other hand, could touch a person and immediately replicate that person to the minutest detail, including control to a level of sophistication I could never achieve. But there was a cost to such power: the life of the subject.

"Now comes the part that everyone misunderstands, the paradoxical Gift. Zephaniah and I both share a common paradoxical Gift, the one that you were tossed into when they locked you up in the quarantine chamber with me. That's why pairings between paradoxically Gifted is so critical. In our case, your power was able to diminish my ungoverned release of power, so that I could take control again.

"Merging was a theory to test and prove the question of whether or not a partner is needed. If one could merge the two personalities together, the combination in power would allow for control of the paradoxical Gift."

Miranda shivered at this. "Where do you fit in all of this merging business?"

"My task was to mimic and absorb the biological data of any given subject. Essentially, I was tasked with compiling the 'raw data' of the paradoxically Gifted. I was and am the data miner in this research.

"That's where Carmen and Armyne came into play. Carmen has the power of foresight, not much different from your own abilities Miranda. But Carmen can focus on any single event and then relay the outcome. For example, she could tell if any given experiment in the lab was going to end in failure. Her power saved us thousands upon thousands of man-hours of trial and error work. And as for Armyne…"

Miranda felt a mixture of fear and revulsion.

"…she could actually change the metaphysical properties of a person. She could alter the thing we call fate, destiny or even chance with a single touch. But no matter how slight the change, the subject would always meet a brutal demise. One volunteer in a padded cell ruptured his aorta through stress. His aorta, Miranda. He was killed by a stress-induced aortal rupture!"

With a sigh, Zechariah's arm found itself on her lap. He rested his other elbow on the arm of the chair, he broke eye contact with her, as he propped his cheek against his palm. His eyes focused on a single point somewhere on his bookcase.

"I should have known something was amiss. The data we had collected was utterly useless with the parameters we had originally setup. Then the original team was split up into two different units and shortly thereafter dismantled due to the ongoing war effort. I was sent back to Operations, Richard was sent to command the blockade runners. Our entire program was mothballed."

Miranda was grateful that his mood had leveled off, allowing her time to sort out the dizzying effects of the vinculum. She reassured him by squeezing his hand.

"Listen," she said. "Based on that video, it was obvious that you were in no condition to think clearly. You looked angry."

Zechariah squeezed her hand in return.

"I was livid. That was the day I learned about the fate of our work. Richard did nothing, and I hated him for it. But 'in the fullness of time' I can now see why he did what he did. He had to play that card close to the chest."

Miranda gently moved Zechariah's hand off her lap, stood and walked over to the window. Without a word, Zechariah released the security measure and the opaque window dissolved back to transparency.

Miranda allowed herself a smile. She was starting to enjoy the benefits of having a connection with Zechariah.

Then a curious thought leapt into her conscious mind.

"How is that you and I came to be linked? I mean, you and Carmen or whomever she is, were far more compatible, right?"

Zechariah stood and walked over to the couch. As he sat down he turned his attention to reheating the remainder of the coffee.

"Now that's a clever question. And the answer will no doubt bring about a whole host of possibly unanswerable questions. Still, I promised I'd answer your questions to the best of my ability." He sighed. "I connected with a young girl several years prior to any formal training, I was young then mind you, in fact I had just been released by Lian."

Miranda turned to look at him, her eyes puzzled by that answer.

"Wait, what? Lian said that it happened automatically when I turned twelve."

Without looking, he continued.

"Lian doesn't know the truth of how I came to meet you, Miranda. I'd be surprised if you remembered."

Frowning, she started reading the vinculum. She found something equally amazing, an emotion she couldn't unlock.

"Lian believes that our connection happened when I was eighteen and you were twelve correct?" said Miranda.

"Yes, that's what she told me."

Zechariah nodded only slightly as he poured himself another cup of steaming coffee.

"The fact of the matter is I met you when I was eleven. You must have just turned five."

A memory leaped from deep within her, a fond childhood memory about a… "Strange young boy who was explaining to me just how fun…"

Zechariah synced his words with hers.

"…imaginary friends can be."

Miranda watched in utter disbelief.

"That was you?!"

He nodded only slightly, as he took a sip.

"Guilty as charged."

"That's impossible! We… I mean… how can that be? I thought those connections happened during adolescence."

"Seems we need to clarify another misconception, my dear. We are both dominant carriers, neither one of us is the recessive. So why did we pair? There has never been a documented case of a dominate on dominate pairing.

"Perhaps a better question is, did we actually pair in the conventional sense of the word or was that bond already present? Consider my theory: your power didn't full manifest until after you were on the orbiter, as an adult. Why? I read your medical records, two weeks prior you had undergone Survival, Evasion and Tracking Training School and, like most participants had come down with a nasty case of Sanctum Influenza. Your defenses were already weakened and Kisandra had a better than average chance to complete a total blackout on you. That's not only rare; at one point was thought to be totally impossible.

"It is all these events of seemingly random chance that makes the study of our phenomena a devil of a science experiment. For what it's worth, Lian is a gem of a researcher. She believes that there is a layer that reacts with the physical world, a metaphysical element that has been occurring in more frequency now because more humans have been exposed to the harshness of the Void, which is responsible for the acceleration of these anomalies."

Miranda turned to look out the window again. All of these theoretical and metaphysical realities, discussions and aberrations were making her head hurt. She lifted her left hand to the bridge of her nose and with gentle fingers started to massage it. Now she understood why Lian had done so, it was remarkable in how relaxing the effect was.

"How can you put up with so much nonsensical data, Zecc? It's ridiculous and confusing and I don't know if I follow anything you're saying."

"I try to keep a high level overview of things, from 4,500 meters up, if you will. I don't get into the minutiae, that's Lian's job. My problems are nested with those who wield about in the dark, the cloak and dagger types. Like the fact that Broken Laurel is now openly gunning to steal you away and the worrisome dreams you've been having."

Miranda's breath froze and she turned to look at him. Cool as ever, even as he drank the steaming cup, his eyes held hers with reassurance and an equally knowing look.

The vinculum?

No, he knew about her dreams before the connection was established.

"Only three things I know of that can make me sweat that vigorously, and one of them requires another party. You were flush, but not sickly looking so it wasn't from a fever. The question now is what got you so spooked that you'd wake up in a cold sweat?"

She lowered her hands, resigned to his perceptivity.

"Are you asking because you can't see my dreams? Or because you want me to tell you?"

"My dear, it's all fun and well to have the vinculum, but there are places in your mind I don't have access to without your help. If I tried to open that treasure chest it would be like taking a sledgehammer to it, rather than a key. You would have known and rather painfully so. You'll 'see' them in my mind as well, as soon as you get more adept at reading the flow of information you're receiving. Even if my conversation triggers a memory, without your consent, I would be staring at a half-finished puzzle. But if you help me, I can get a four dimensional view of things."

Miranda gave him a nod and took a deep breath.

"The dream itself is strange. I'm watching things from varying points of view, sometimes it's the predators, other times it's the prey. But there is also a third point of view, as if I'm a spectator watching a coliseum match. The main actors in this dream are two paradoxically Gifted people, though. That much I know for certain. But there is something wrong, something terribly wrong about these two.

"They are a matched pair, but… their powers don't support one another like ours do. It's the opposite; she drains him until he's almost dead."

"As for the male counterpart… I don't really want to know what he does to her when he's fully recuperated. Whatever it is, theirs is a destructive vinculum. She can manipulate heat as an offensive weapon. She also has a secondary power, and why I know this I can't say, but she can craft an area of complete silence, a bubble if you will where no sounds can escape. His powers are shrouded somehow. I couldn't see into that darkness and I'm thankful for that. The cold sweat I experienced was prompted by the smell of burning flesh and the terror and pain that I felt from the victim. I've had this happen to me twice already and I have an odd sensation that I've missed some of their hunts."

Zechariah looked troubled. "One thing you never forget is the smell of burning flesh," he said as he stood and headed for his desk. He tapped a key on the intercom system.

"I need Lian and Teresa to come here, on the double. Tell them it's urgent."

Miranda turned to face him.

Zechariah looked over at her at that moment.

"I know those two, my dear. They used to be part of my team. They're labeled as N.T.B.R. Broken Laurel have just stepped on a non-negotiable land mine."

"Wait? What on earth is N.T.B.R.?"

Zechariah gave a rather stony look,

"Never To Be Released."

Miranda was about to ask more questions when Teresa then Lian walked into the room.

"What on earth is so important that you would pull us away from a sensitive experiment, Zechariah?" barked Lian.

"Forgive her impudence, Mr. Fairchild," said Teresa. "We had to make sure our seats were covered before we came here."

He waved them over to the couch, motioning for Miranda to do the same. He sat across from them on a worn, black leather recliner.

"Teresa, I've got confirmation that code name 'Infractus' is fully operational."

Miranda turned to look when both failed to answer and blinked when she saw the color drain from Teresa's face. Lian looked even paler.

"That's…impossible…" Lian said, her voice suddenly empty of impertinence.

Teresa looked like she might faint. Miranda moved to hold her steady.

Lian sucked in her breath, as if about to say something but Zechariah cut her off, turning to look at Miranda.

"When I was finally relieved from Operations after our victory at Tenacity, I was transferred to the newly re-tasked CSIB. Today it is the umbrella department that governs all aspects of foreign and domestic intelligence. In fact Branch Cell is sheltered by the CSIB, but when originally created it had a far different role as an action group for Phase One. The Fifteen created SCALO and CSIB, which were the departments listed in the original covert and security apparatus, which was also to serve as scapegoats in the event that its secret missions was every discovered by the outside world, allowing the government to officially disavowed either one.

Zechariah continued his dissertation,

"Within the auspice of SCALO, Phase Beta Two became the more ambitious of the two programs, a mission directive to militarize and deploy paradoxically Gifted soldiers into the field. The goal was to disrupt the Old Imperial Republic deep within enemy territory, specifically the capture or ensure the destruction of the ArGNA communication system. A secondary goal was attached to this combat force, which was to verify all data already collected by the Old Imperial Republic's military intelligence network regarding the combat efficiency of paradoxically Gifted soldiers, Phase Beta Two became the perfect venue to not only corroborate previous intel, but to further collect raw data using actual combat scenarios."

Zechariah's voice then took a more somber tone,

"The program eventually was a resounding success, achieving both its main and secondary directives, but at huge cost. We learned so much about the practical nature of those paradoxically Gifted, we also learned that the flames of war, will always find a way to break perfectly sound soldiers. Their actions triggered a full decommission of SCALO, including its unceremonious disavowment and fall from grace of those soldiers we once called our compatriots.

We then re-tasked Phase Alpha One, splitting it into two new departments, Branch Cell and Broken Laurel. Branch Cell became the research and development arm that would use the recovered raw data and then implement a more benign training program under the operational name, Paradoxical Training Corps. Broken Laurel, became the paramilitary arm of Phase Alpha One, deploying those deemed to be 'stable for operational paramilitary operations'. Phase Beta Two was systematically dismantled and officially disavowed.

Unofficially, each department retained control of the two split programs, Phase Alpha One and its sister program, Phase Beta Two which also had their own front IDs, Alpha One was designated Hemlock, and Beta Two designated Wild Charlie.

Miranda eyes widen, though she had no clue about the other operational names, she and everyone in the covert and security apparatus knew about Wild Charlie.

"Wild Charlie became the scapegoat for the CSIB, Phase Alpha One and operation Hemlock."

Miranda stiffened, even though she hated herself for asking, her desire for confirmation pushed her forward.

"You don't mean…?"

"Yes, Miranda, I mean MetS."

She paled, the Mobilized ExTraction Squad comprised an all paradoxically Gifted team and a name that would forever taint the CSIB.

When Zechariah had sounded off that acronym, the whole room took upon a surreal gloom, a gloom that could only hold a special place in hell for those few minds that had hatched such a demonic program.

Zechariah continued,

"I was assigned to this squad as its executive officer, our commanding officer had just official finished his third tour of duty—"

Lian had fully recovered by then, slamming her hand, palm open, on the coffee table, almost spilling the contents of the cvere.

"Zechariah Fairchild, that information is classified higher than Verified Compartmental Eyes Only! She's not even allowed to know what MetS stood for!"

Lian stood, her face red with outrage. Though she once held Compartmental Top Secret clearance, Miranda's current clearance level could barely get her into an officer's wash closet.

"Lian," began Miranda, "I know about MetS and what the acronym stands for. This was before…I was disgraced."

"That's not the point, Miranda!"

Lian turned to Zechariah.

"Why in the hell are you even talking about this?"

Zechariah gave Lian a patient smile.

"Miranda has confirmed our worst fears about MetS bastard child."

Lian froze and turned to Miranda. "H-How?"

Even before she spoke the words, Miranda realized how utterly foolish her answer was going to sound.

"I've been having dreams—"

Lian's response was something between a snort, laugh and growl and so sudden it made the level-headed Teresa jump from her seat, tripping backward only to land sitting on Miranda's lap.

The discussion quickly turned from heated argument to outright hostility.

"So now she's having visions of the Broken? Zechariah, this is insanity!"

"I verified the dreams myself, Lian. Those 'visions' as you call them are an exact representation of Helena and Houston."

"Are you sure you're not just filling in gaps?"

"Don't be stupid, Lian. There's no way my memories could fill enough detail to make that theory of yours even viable and you know it."

Lian's nostrils flared, and her voice became shrill.

"Then prove to me that she isn't having some sort of wave feedback delusion!"

Zechariah stood and walked over to Lian and put a single finger against her forehead as he closed his eyes. She started shaking as Zechariah seemed to be pushing his knowledge from his mind into hers. Miranda realized that his talent could work in both directions.

A moment later, Lian pulled away and started coughing. She waved a hand in front of her and ran to the bathroom, Teresa close on her heels. Zechariah took a deep breath and shook his head. Miranda looked at him, a frown forming on her face.

"Did you have to let her smell it?"

"Yes, that scent of burning is critical to this whole thing. Do you recall what you smelled?"

Realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

"Sulfur!"

"Or sometimes called brimstone. You were correct in your estimation that her power is not fire but a form of superheated radiant energy. The catalyst smells suspiciously like—"

"—the characterization of Hell itself."

Lian returned from the bathroom with a concerned Teresa not far behind. She was pale and shaken.

"I guess we don't have a choice, Zechariah."

She sat down heavily, putting her head in her hands and started to weep. Teresa sat down as well and held her, looking up at Zechariah with a silent plea.

"Sit down, Miranda. I'll take full responsibility should Lian or Teresa report me to CSIB for talking to you about classified information. I'll remind you that this information is For H.E.R. Eyes Only. I'll find a way to change your clearance retroactively."

She sat and looked up at him expectantly.

"Miranda, the commanding officer was Richard."

"What? That's impossible he was doing…" She stopped mid-sentence. Of course it was Richard, she thought. He had the perfect cover.

"Why? Zechariah, why would he allow such a thing to happen? Why would you?"

His eyes held genuine sympathy for the words he was about to speak, "Our charge was to preserve our independence, by any means necessary."

That statement resounded in her mind like an echo.

For that reason, she had also shot and killed her father.