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.