Page 5

Dr. Mansfield neededto work as a police interrogator. Bradley had given her just enough intel to hang me with, and after a short but brief dispute, which she won, she discovered my fiancé had opted to unlock the bracelet so I could break her rules. That earned me a twenty-minute scolding, although the scolding resulted in a proper examination of my foot using my talent to help make sure the infection packed its bags and left.

We both compromised, and she agreed to leave the bracelet unlocked as long as I agreed to only turn it off three times a day to manage the infection properly, rather than attempt to use my various organs as an untraditional storage method for impurities in my blood. Then, as my day could always get worse, she gave me a prescription, one with the slimy, creepy feeling I disliked—and had polluted Senator Maybelle’s blood.

“You’re not just an exsanguinator, you know,” my doctor announced while rattling the pill bottle at me. I’d learned when she rattled the bottle, she meant business, and good patients listened when she meant business.

“Really? I’ll take anything at this point. Any other talent than just exsanguination.”

“Your ability to sense how a drug will interact with the human body is a mending talent. I suspect you are a mid-range mender who uses exsanguination as the foundation of your mending work. I’ve been thinking about the shooting, and I’ve been talking with pure exsanguinators confirmed to lack any other talents. Then I spoke with some other menders, and I found a match in a chemist. The chemist uses their mending talent to learn how drugs might react in the body without testing on live humans, and he has just enough of an exsanguination talent to be able to address some of the bloodwork problems. You have a far stronger exsanguination talent, but you have a weaker mending talent. I think you’re instinctively doing that. The pure exsanguinators I spoke to are also unsure they could mimic how you save lives. Some think they can do similar, but you have a far more refined level of control than they do. I suspect your mending abilities are helping you. You’re essentially the perfect healer for anything involving the circulatory system.”

“Am I?” I considered her words, wondering what it would change for me. From the first time I’d done a shift in the ER, I’d decided saving lives appealed far more than taking them, although I could kill with a mere thought. I worked hard to make sure I never put myself in a position I might accidentally harm someone. “Does that mean you won’t hang me from the rafters when I check on my foot more often than you like?”

“As long as you aren’t trying to oxygenate your blood outside of actual emergencies, I’ll look the other way. However, I want you to call a mender friend of mine over in Europe for some lessons. And I expect you to take your medications as required.”

“What do they do?” I asked, aware I’d earn another round of rattling.

To my surprise, she put the prescription bottle in my purse. “It’s a low dose of anxiety medication, as your fiancé has reported you’re likely suffering from low-grade generalized anxiety. That sort of stress will hamper your ability to heal. The slimy feeling you dislike is from the beta blocker class of medications. Dr. Liegersen confirmed your description of the medication is typical of menders detecting beta blockers. Try one in the morning tomorrow and see how you feel. With this one, you’ll notice a difference right away if it’s going to help you. If you don’t notice a difference or it has side effects that don’t work for you, we can look at other options. Alternatively, you can go to more therapy to address the core problems. Ideally, you’ll do both.”

“If you feel it’s necessary.”

“I do, especially after having spoken to Mr. Hampton about some of your general habits, which are fairly stereotypical in those suffering from anxiety. Most of the habits are often ignored, as it doesn’t look like what people associate with anxiety.”

“Like?”

“Fixations on certain habits is a good example of an anxiety-driven behavior. Food, for example, is often comforting, so some anxiety patients resist trying new foods. You definitely have a fixation on Chinese. From my understanding of the situation, you have a lot of good associations with Chinese food from when you lived with the Hamptons. Every time you got it, you had won a little victory against the Hampton family routine.”

Huh. I could readily believe that. “I am going to a business dinner tonight to a eat a food I’ve never tried before. Does that count as my progress for the week?”

“Absolutely. Leaving your comfort zone without suffering from anxiety over having done so is ideal. And if you do feel anxious over something, let your fiancé know. He’s been talking with a therapist to help his personal problems and get support so he can better help you, too.”

I had more than a few reasons to fret, although I’d keep her advice in mind. “Okay. So, are you going to cut my foot off this session?” I teased.

“Get out of my office,” my doctor ordered with a laugh.

I madeit home a little after three, chuckled at the note Bradley had left, which consisted of a playful accusation of abandonment, informing me he’d find some way to consume all of my favorite foods without me. His side note, which involved a curse at milk, turned my chuckles into full-fledged laughter. Satisfied he would be off somewhere for most of the night, probably dealing with his mother’s restrictive diet, I took a bath, got dressed in my best business clothes, and fed Ajani, who accepted my attention without leaving half her fur on my attire.

Rather than lug the wheelchair around, I opted for the crutches, which would devour space in any vehicle Senator Westonhaus had selected for our venture. I also went through my cane selection, of which I had six of the damned things. Bradley had gotten me two, one with a lion for a handle and another with a dragon for a handle. His mother had gotten me one, which featured a plain silvered knob. The rest came from my co-workers, who were convinced if I didn’t have three extras, ranging from plain and practical to a piece of art that’d likely cost them a fortune, I might not lose them all. After some debate, I decided the dragon would be my best bet.

I took a purse and a briefcase with a good shoulder strap along for the ride, both of which were a gift from Bradley’s mother for the times I might need to show up in court without embarrassing myself, and I put my new laptop and tablet in it so I could take notes. Since I had no idea how long a dinner meeting might take, I took the chargers for both.

It never hurt to be prepared.

Ten minutes before Senator Westonhaus was scheduled to arrive, I hobbled down the stairs, leaned on my crutch, and read a procedural novel with a reputation of being accurate to life rather than a flight of fantasy. While the book wouldn’t be the same as a solid education, I hoped it would offer some hints about how to better run an investigation.

Unlike my life, the book featured a thief as the antagonist, a little escape from the harsher reality I faced.

At five sharp, a dark SUV pulled up with its hazard lights on, and an older man I recognized as Senator Westonhaus got out from the driver’s side. “Hello, Janette. I see you got upgraded to crutches?”

“My doctor thinks I will throw every wheelchair to cross my path down the nearest flight of steps, so she decided it was time to see if I could handle the crutches. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator.” I slid my e-reader into my purse and limped over to shake hands with him.

“The pleasure’s mine.” He opened the front passenger door for me. “There’s plenty of room in the back for your crutches and cane. The restaurant will take us about an hour to get to with traffic. It seems the entire city has decided to go out tonight in addition to normal rush hour. My wife warned me, which is why our reservation is for seven with the option to show a little early if traffic allows, but we’ll have to face perilous perils.”

Perilous perils? Nowhere in my reading about the senator implied the man had a sense of humor. I made myself laugh at his commentary, got into the SUV, and handed over my crutches and cane before buckling in and putting my purse between my feet.

Thanks to self-treating the infection, my foot didn’t bother me all that much. What the lack of infection didn’t accomplish, the low dosage of painkiller did.

Not battling misery during the extended business meeting would make all the difference in the world.

While Senator Westonhaus didn’t serve New York, he drove like he’d been born in the city, zipping back into traffic without any evidence the ongoing vehicular battle bothered him. Then again, driving such a large SUV, he would win most disputes with the smaller cars, which helped make certain that people paid him some attention when he decided he was merging.

Rather than scream at him to let me out and run back to my apartment, I focused on my breathing to mask my growing tensions over how he drove.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you know about Samantha? You have never been active in politics, so I was quite surprised to hear you were attending one of her rallies.”

Well, the articles I’d read about the senator hadn’t lied about his direct nature, at least. “I’m not active in politics, but I’d heard about one of the bills she’s co-sponsoring, and I wanted to see what she was about.”

“Are you in support of this bill?”

“Not particularly. You know the bill fairly well, so you should understand why it’s less-than-ideal for me if it does pass.”

“Ah. That bill. I’m surprised you’re aware of it. It hasn’t come to public attention yet.”

“My future mother-in-law is an attorney, and she follows legislation that might have consequences for her family,” I replied. “She takes such duties seriously. The legislation did change some of my plans regarding my engagement, but she’s satisfied she will have minimal difficulty protecting her family should the bill be passed.”

“In a way, that is a pity. The armed forces could use a skilled woman like you.”

“I’m not eligible for the draft even as written, nor would I be a good candidate for working within the military.”

“Really? Why would you say that?”

I raised a brow at him. “Well, unless you need someone who does blood-based medical work of the mending variety, I’d do the military zero good on the front lines. While I have some offensive and defensive capabilities, they don’t scale. I can’t just wave my hand and kill people, Senator. Also, I’m to be tested for other talents, as my exsanguination abilities are not behaving in a way expected for someone who isn’t a hybrid.”

“Ah. Hybridism in magic does complicate things. May I inquire what your hybridism is?”

“Probable mending,” I announced, unable to hide the pride in my voice. “I always wanted to be a nurse, but unfortunately, due to prior legislation, the medical field was robbed of my skills.”

“Ah. I see.” The man frowned. “Exsanguinators have interest in the medical field?”

“A significant number of flame elementalists become fire fighters. Why wouldn’t exsanguinators become doctors or nurses if allowed? We’re not drinking the blood for heaven’s sake. We’re not vampires. Sure, I can kill with my talent, but so can a flame elementalist. My abilities are best used in medical capacities. If it’s a bodily fluid, I can work with it, which is part of why my doctor thinks I’m actually a hybrid mender. Yes, I could kill you—but I’d much rather be saving you. My magic doesn’t define me, just like it doesn’t define most. There are menders who use their abilities to kill, but menders are considered to be the angels of society. If not for those unfounded prejudices, I could be an angel, too.”

“I see I’ve made a few errors in my base judgment.”

Yep, that was one way to put it. “I work in public service because I want to, and because men like you bar me from doing something else more valuable. You’re so focused on your hate you can’t see the trees in the forest. The things that go bump in the night are usually scarier than the reality. Sure, I can kill with my magic if I want to. So can any elementalist with a forty percent rating. Most talents can kill. Sensors can’t, at least not with their magic, but what’s stopping them from buying a gun and using that instead? People fear what they don’t understand. It just happens I have a very solid understanding of how the body works, and I can use this to save lives. That’s what I’m good at.”

“Well, you have a reputation. My sources tell me you can spray blood six stories.”

“Well, yes. I can. I suspect a mender or someone skilled with telekinesis can do similar. Of course, I don’t need help doing that. It was a cow, by the way. I practiced on livestock to give them humane deaths at slaughter while honing my skills. I worked with vets to help heal animals long before I started working on humans. Humans are complicated, but at their heart and soul, they’re not much different from a cow. They just talk in moos. Biologically? There is an astounding number of similarities in human bodies and animal bodies. I mean, at the end of the day, we’re just complicated animals.”

“While I had expected a lively discussion, as librarians are adept at such things, I hadn’t expected a bitter brew to go with the lively discussion. Then again, I suppose the fault is with me.”

“How so?”

“I never bothered to meet an exsanguinator before. I was only viewing the situation through the eyes of society.”

I put some thought into that. “Yes, that’s normal. That’s what people in large groups do. They make assumptions and stop thinking. A single person can be sane and logical, capable of rational and deliberate thought. Put that same person into a mass group and work the crowd, and they become just like everyone else, caught up in the moment.”

Senator Westonhaus headed in the general direction of the Hamptons, a trip I’d done a few too many times trying to be everywhere at one time. After I got home from the disaster dinner meeting in progress, I’d have to thank Bradley for being sensible. I’d still visit the range under his parents’ estate, but I appreciated my home turf—and I appreciated his willingness to move into my home turf rather than keep sending me off to where the rich and wealthy tended to play.

“My wife warned me I shouldn’t debate with a librarian. I lose to her often.”

“Cites her sources, does she?”

“She absolutely does, whenever possible, and she picks the sources that best arm her for victory. She even warned me I would be unwise to test you, as you’re a librarian who has, apparently, experience in the medical field.”

“I would think that was obvious from the work I’ve done.” I laughed outright at the thought of someone with only knowledge and zero practice having accomplished what I had during the shooting. “When it comes to treating trauma patients, experience is critical. You can’t afford to make any mistakes. That’s why I started with animals on route for being butchered. Then I worked with animals who weren’t destined for someone’s dinner plate. Only when I could manage to care for animals did I even think about testing my skills on people. But I learned a lot helping veterinarians treat pets. Nobody wants somebody’s pet to die. Animals are just as complicated as people are, especially when it comes to the relationship of their blood and bodies. Fish are complicated, too. I can work with fish as well, although it’s a little harder because most people just don’t have a solid understanding of how fish work. Fish aren’t considered to be as important as say, a cat or a dog. But they have a nervous system, a brain, and a complicated circulatory system, too.”

“I didn’t think fish had much in the way of a brain and nervous system.”

“Most don’t. But when I’m working with a fish, the problems are the same. Don’t ask me why people think fish aren’t complex. They really are.”

“And yet another insight I will have to chew on later. Before you became a librarian, you were a bodyguard, correct?”

“Yes, I worked for my fiancé. His mother did not anticipate how good at my job I would be, which hampered her matchmaking ways.”

“Ah, I see. You were bought specifically to be wed into the family?”

“No. I agreed to be hired because I have good skills for the family and could serve as a bodyguard in addition to being able to monitor their health and prevent medical problems from becoming significant. It just happened I have good skills and aptitude for protection roles. I’m no longer a bodyguard, nor do I have any aspirations to return to that line of work. I’ll likely continue working as a librarian.”

“Would you consider changing into the medical field?”

“Had you asked that question before the accident, I probably would have jumped on the first opportunity to cross my path. Now? I serve an important role to the public as a librarian, and I would not be as comfortable moving to a new field at this point. That ship has sailed for me, Senator Westonhaus. While I could likely overcome the obstacles put in place for exsanguinators at the cost of the public and the healthcare system, I enjoy my current work, which is of equal importance.”

“That is one of the politest ways I’ve ever heard someone tell me I should go eat my feet, think about what I’ve done, and come back when I’m ready to apologize and make proper amends.”

I frowned. “You were one of the politicians who put forward bills to bar exsanguinators from working in the medical field?”

“Yes. It was one of my first bills when I came into office. It seems it is quickly becoming one of my greater regrets.”

While I heard remorse could change people, I had not truly thought politicians understood what remorse was and how it could change their way of thinking. “Are you thinking about Senator Maybelle?”

“In part.”

One day, I might understand society. Then again, did I actually want to understand society? Would I become just as incapable of empathy and compassion with a broader understanding of why people did as they did and believed as they believed? “They just would have picked a different scapegoat. Exsanguinators are low-lying fruit when it comes to scapegoats. Does it involve blood? An exsanguinator probably did it. But we’re surprisingly limited.”

“Really? How so?”

“Well, I certainly can’t bust blood through somebody’s skull, that’s for certain. I can make it come out of your nose, your ears, and even your eyes, but the membranes are much thinner, so it’s easier to build up the appropriate amount of pressure. That type of refined work is actually difficult and tiring. It’s not efficient, either.”

“That had occurred to me. You have changed how people think about exsanguinators. And while you couldn’t save Samantha, one woman is alive because of you. From my understanding of the situation, you became her heart?”

“Not quite. The aorta, which is one of those really important parts connected to the heart, had been torn open by the bullet. I rerouted the blood in her body so the aorta could be repaired by a mender. I did make certain her blood continued to be oxygenated, but I did that with all the victims. I excel at treating hemorrhaging because I can control every element of blood flow through the body. I’ve helped trauma victims before, and decreased blood flow and a lack of oxygenation tends to kill. I can’t help against things like catastrophic organ failure and damage, but I can stand in for some organs as long as it’s something relating to the blood. If your kidney or liver were to fail, I could keep you alive until your kidney or liver were healed. If your lungs fail, I can help with that, too—I can oxygenate the blood through the airways and take over for the lungs. I can’t help if there are no thin membranes with blood access, though. It’s easiest to work through the lungs—but I can take over for the lungs if necessary.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes, I am. Exsanguinators can be the difference between life and death in the emergency room. We excel where menders struggle. If menders could manipulate the blood like we can, there would be many more survivors of trauma, too. We have our limits, but if given the right training, exsanguinators make an excellent member of the ER staff. We’re best in a support role, though, unless we have to run the show.”

“Like you did with that woman at the rally.”

“Yeah. I was running that show, although that was due to having to keep several people alive at one time. I was in pretty deep and couldn’t do anything except work with the other victims.”

“While you were also a victim.”

I shrugged. “I gave my foot token treatment first. I can’t help them if I bleed out, but it was trivial to mitigate the bleeding and use some magic to route the blood where it needed to go. As far as injuries went, mine was the easiest to deal with. It took a few seconds to make sure I wouldn’t bleed out before I went to work making sure the others survived. Those few seconds could have cost that woman her life, though.”

“But it didn’t.”

“She was very, very lucky. I don’t know if this will comfort you or not, but Senator Maybelle didn’t suffer. She didn’t even have a chance to realize she’d been shot before she died. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“I appreciate that. I’d been told as much, but it’s comforting to hear it from someone who was there. I can understand why she was assassinated.”

“I can’t.”

The senator’s chuckle, sad and bitter, drew my attention away from the traffic to him. He drove with a tight grip on the wheel, his gaze monitoring the streets. “That bill is a monstrosity.”

My mouth dropped open. “Then why support it?”

“Because I know what the alternative is.”

The idea there might be a worse alternative hadn’t really crossed my mind. “Is that why you wanted a dinner meeting? So you could tell someone about the alternative?”

“A librarian who put others over herself is the interest of all politicians right now, no matter which side of the aisle we’re on. Most of the more ethical of us are discussing charitable donations for your library, and there are more than a few planning on reaching out to make those plans into a reality. I’ve vocalized that intent, and there has been enough hearsay and general gossip to support a general feel you prefer quieter affairs. I wasn’t the only one planning such a venture, accommodating your injuries as necessary for a meeting. Everyone also knows I offered a gift of a trip to the bookstore. Knowledge is power in political circles, and I’ve been wielding that power for a long time. Nobody will think anything more of it than a genuine expression of gratitude. Curiosity as well, but at the heart of it, gratitude. You turned Samantha’s death into something more. In a way, she lives on in the woman you saved, and we all know that. Some of us were flabbergasted that the Maybelle family would protest the use of her blood, but we took steps on that front.”

My eyes widened. “I thought the campaign had done that.”

“Oh, they helped—but there were more than a few senators and representatives who made quite the fuss over Samantha’s legacy. Organ donation terrified her. She genuinely believed doctors would kill her for organs.”

I scowled. “I hate that ignorant belief so much. Doctors, nurses, and everyone in the medical field, makes an oath to save as many as they can. They don’t butcher people who could survive for their organs. The only real difference in organ donation cases is they keep the body alive for as long as humanely possible to allow for the donation, as there is a short window of opportunity upon the death of the donor. I can extend that window.” I’d done just that once, too, buying a child’s heart time for the donor to be prepped for surgery. “I can keep an organ alive for at least six to eight hours. I did it once for a heart of a child with a rare blood and genetic type. I also helped the body integrate the heart. That was hard.”

The little girl who’d received the heart had survived for far longer than expected, in part because of my work.

“I hadn’t heard about that.”

“Nobody has heard about it. I did the work anonymously. In some circumstances, I can also help control the risk of organ rejection during the donation, but I usually only do those when it’s happening because of a trauma situation and the victim got lucky.”

I wondered what had happened to that little girl, who wouldn’t have lived longer than six more months without that all-important heart. I also wondered what had happened to the others I’d help survive through their organ donations.

“But why? Why anonymously?”

“Because people hear what I am, and the first thing they experience is fear. Sometimes, if the victims or patients ask, I’m identified, but they often don’t ask. They assume the ER staff worked some form of miracle.”

“It takes a special person to do the work with none of the glory.”

“I have no use for glory, Senator. It doesn’t pay the bills, feed my cat, or cover the costs of my medical care. I don’t need someone to boost my ego. I know what I can do, I know what I’ve done, and that is enough. The only boost to my ego I need is the knowledge I made a difference. I can’t make a difference to everybody, but I made a difference to somebody. All I did was sit in an emergency room and wait for patients to arrive. And then I helped because I could.” If others did the same, I wondered how much the world would change.

Wishes wouldn’t do any good, and hoping for a brighter future accomplished nothing. If I wanted things to change, I needed to find a way to change them.

The how part of the equation continued to elude me.

“Many people say if they could help, they would, but when the time comes and they could, they don’t. This is something I have seen time and time again. People are willing to talk, but very few are willing to do. You didn’t talk, but you did. You didn’t have to talk, though. Everyone saw you as you are in a moment of truth. You saved lives for the world to see, doing so when any sane and reasonable person would have been more worried about saving their own life. I respect and admire that.”

While aware the senator’s assassination had been captured on video, I hadn’t put much thought into the ramifications of her death having been recorded—or that people were aware of my identity, magic, and role in the aftermath. I still didn’t understand how—or why—I’d been shot first. “How much of it was recorded? I haven’t watched,” I confessed.

“Someone caught your entire exchange with her, although the audio is patchy in sections.”

“Were the other victims caught on camera?”

“Yes, although not all from the same video. The media has dissected the entire incident, and you’ve been given a lot of credit for your resilience. You must have been in an incredible amount of pain.”

“I’m, unfortunately, rather used to pain, although I don’t recommend getting shot in the foot. I am very grateful they hit the foot they did, and not my good one. That would have ruined my day more than it had already been ruined.”

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone knows if you were meant to be shot at all. The bullet’s trajectory implies the shooter might have missed. We’re just not sure.”

While I had serious doubts about the shooter’s motivations for hitting me, I’d come to terms with the idea someone had wanted to shoot me; the bullet had struck my foot a little too close to center to have been an accident, especially considering the precision of the following shots. I’d hold that card up my sleeve, as I couldn’t guess Senator Westonhaus’s motivations to save my life. “Only the shooter knows the truth of that. Unless they’re apprehended, I doubt we may ever know the full truth. It’s not like my magic could have saved her in any case. She died instantly, and while I can do a lot, I can’t reverse death.”

“No one can. I still struggle to accept that life can end in an instant.”

As I had no idea if anyone else truly understood she’d taken a bullet to the brain in addition to the chest, I settled for a shrug. “There’s a lot about life I don’t understand.”

“I feel the same way. Tell me, Janette. What do you know about politics, really?”

“Apparently, not enough.”

“Good answer. When I first ran for a city council position at the start of my political career, I knew nothing—not really. And that is the start of the story. Everything you thought you knew about politics in the United States is wrong. A divided country is easier to manipulate—if the division is among the people and not among those ruling the people. At first, I assumed politics were cut and dry. Us versus them. Conservatives versus liberals, with vitriol tossed between the two. The liberals believe in “for the People.” Conservatives believe in that, too, but in a different way. The different way is where we get into trouble. The original plan for the United States hasn’t survived the test of time.”

No kidding. “From what I understand about history, I agree. I remember reading about how the Democratic Party was actually conservative at one point, and the Republican Party was liberal, but they switched polarizations, shifting so that the Democratic Party became liberal, and the Republican party became conservative.”

“That’s correct, although a far distant history. In reality, there are no parties in upper politics. We put on a show, but we ultimately have many different factions, and we just decide which banner our faction flies under. Technically, I’m considered to be fiscally conservative, socially moderate, and liberal in certain circumstances, although I’m rarely approached to support bills from the liberal leaning members of the senate. During an election cycle, we build our campaign based on the needs of the senate, the house, or the congress, and we run an elaborate ruse to draw in the types of voters we need to pass measures. I was chosen to support Representative Kennedys’s bill because I am considered to be socially moderate. If I, someone who is socially moderate, support the bill, a show can be put on to make it appear as We the People voted for societal change, when in reality, the fate of the country has already been decided behind closed doors. We the People have no choice in what the future holds. The government is careful to make sure people believe they have the freedom of choice, but the reality is far darker. Once I got higher than city level, I was given a choice: play the game by the set rules, or be ruined in the eyes of the people I wanted to serve. There was a rather strong implication my choice might involve me being eliminated should I share about this reality. I agreed. The lure of greed proved to be far stronger than my morality. You’ll find that’s the case with most politicians, and the good ones, who play the game for the sake of We the People, play a subtle and dangerous game. Samantha extended too far. She tried to break the mold set for us as politicians serving the government, a government that means to control its people rather than maintain the rights of its people. The bill is only the next step in a game that’s been played for decades. The democracy of our country is a lie. There aren’t even two parties. There is a grand show designed to keep the people divided because the government would be unable to battle a united front. So this bill is designed to mitigate those who would rise up against the government. It removes the more powerful players, putting them into a position where they must go with the government’s flow—or else.”

“Or else they’d be disposed of, likely in some concocted war meant to remove unwanted or dangerous talents,” I guessed, wrinkling my nose that some of our speculations had been accurate while the reality proved to be worse than anticipated. “That’s why the exemptions, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Were you aware the United States government is selling the children of its military women?”

“Yes, I’m aware. They are typically sold to supporters of the government who cannot have children of their own, and the children are usually expected to be in the upper talent brackets. The women who aren’t producing children of the appropriate brackets are typically given a dishonorable discharge. This has been going on quietly for about twenty years, although the government made a few critical mistakes, allowing several cases to end up in the public courts. The government did not anticipate the determination and familial wealth of one of the women, and she had joined the force prior to the requirement that women agree to these terms. The caretakers did not confirm she had signed away those rights before claiming her child.” Senator Westonhaus sighed. “How that case will be played out has already been determined. It will favor her so the case disappears, and she will be given a choice of being silent or praising the government for correcting what will be claimed to be a clerical error in adoptions. And so the government will maintain its practices without losing any ground.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I agree. You are fortunate that the Hampton family fits into the narrow bracket of adepts who will escape the government’s iron control. It helps they were not deemed to be a threat, they have minimal use in military application, and stay out of general politics. And yes, the family was discussed during a closed session due to your contract. It was determined you would not be a threat to the grand scheme, as your inclination to be a bodyguard and your contract made it unlikely you would ever be in a position to make any substantial difference. Your marriage into the family is an unexpected turn, but the Hampton family is considered to be a neutral party, a good thing overall. So, if the bill passes in the future version, which has already been penned, you and your family will be safe. The new version includes age limitations before the draft is implemented, and your parents are over the age for the draft.” Senator Westonhaus shook his head. “It’s very difficult to make any progress right now. Every politician is given their marching orders and a role they are expected to play. If the game isn’t played according to the rules, there are consequences.”

“Are you implying the government might have had Senator Maybelle assassinated?” I whispered, as that had not been a possibility to cross my mind.

“It would not surprise me if the puppeteers are behind her death in some fashion or another, even if it’s poisoning the minds of extremists and providing misleading information to get them to act. It’s a game our government has played before and will play again. But I do think there’s an unknown player in the game. We tend to know who our government is eliminating before it happens. They’re used as examples, and the government makes certain to use the deaths in a way that benefits them the most, usually counter to the victim’s personal beliefs.”

The thought the government would murder its own citizens—and elected officials—stole my breath. When I recovered, I could only ask, “But why?”

“Greed and power are part of it. I don’t know how it turned out like this. The system was in place before I became a politician, and once you’re in, that’s it. There’s no getting out of it.”

“Why tell me this?”

“You have as much to lose from this as I do, because you’re being watched, and if you don’t play the game just right, they’ll change the bill—they’ll close off your escape route. I still have enough of my ethics to understand you deserve a chance to escape the system. A lifetime of military service wouldn’t be long for someone like you. They’d eliminate you because you’re a threat.”

“I don’t see how I’m a threat. It’s not like I have any desire to start a murdering spree or anything.”

“But you could—and there’s nothing anyone could do to stop you if you decided to go on such a spree. You’ve proven you can work your magic on multiple people at the same time. But you did so ethically. The ethical always lose at the game of politics. This is something we all know well. The ethical lose because they’re unwilling to get their hands dirty, so they battle at significant weakness. You fight a foe who will do anything to win. The ethical can’t rise above that.”

I wondered at his bitterness. “How long has it taken you to learn that lesson?”

“About a year. Someone tried. They died for their efforts, but only after their family suffered to drive home the point there would be no such uprisings in the current government of the United States. Every few years, the government makes an example out of someone. To remind the rest that the punishment is worse than just death.”

What sort of hell had I stumbled into? I’d understood there had been something seriously wrong with the system after reading the bill, but if Senator Westonhaus spoke the truth, we were all up a shit creek without a paddle or boat while splashing around in our crappy delusions. “I feel like I’m missing something important. Why me? I have no political power. I can’t stop the legislation. If it is as you say, every element of our government is rigged.”

“That’s correct. The checks and balances portion of the system collapsed long ago; on paper, those things still exist, but in application, the government chooses how the checks and balances work. It’s all a clever illusion meant to trick the people into believing their say actually means something. You did a good deed. That good deed deserves to be repaid. I can’t give you answers on what to do with your knowledge, but I can tell you this much. The founding fathers would be rolling in their graves if they learned of the tyranny of the government and the deceptions that have been put into place to control the populace into believing they have the freedoms they lack. If you want freedom, Janette, you will need to look abroad—and away from our political allies, for they are not your friend. The government was never your friend, no matter what your political beliefs are. Something to think about.”

“It sounds like the making of a war to me.”

“Yes, another revolution in a country founded on revolution. But the government works hard to make certain any revolution dies before it can be born. That is what you fight against. Keep your head down, stay out of politics, and take a close look at the world around you. The lives of most Americans have been carefully cultivated to preserve the structure of power. As long as those who control the game don’t feel you are interested in playing the game, you will survive. I will say this much. The closer to the top, the more corrupt and involved, and there is nobody in the congress who is innocent of crimes against the people. Nobody. When the government calls, we answer—or we die. And soon enough, only those who agree with the tyranny of those in charge will survive. But every serpent has a head. Should you cut it off, you will have a chance to make the whole monster fall. That’s something to think about.”

No kidding. “Why were the Hamptons ignored?”

“That’s a good question. I have a speculation on the why, but no proof of it. I think the government would rather leave the sleeping beast alone. As all members of the family, save for the adopted daughter, see the truth, how better to prevent the truth from being found than to make certain those who could learn it can never get close to the source of the lies? If the Hamptons speak, people will listen—and if they’re eliminated, people will do more than listen. They’ll investigate. So, the government will choose to let that beast remain asleep rather than stir the ire of the many families who respect them—and you. As long as you work your own illusions, and make it appear you’re not looking into the activities of the government, they’ll ignore you. And the government’s arrogance could be its weakness. How could one small family and an exsanguinator possibly topple the tyranny of an entire government?”

“That’s a really good question, Senator.”

“When you figure it out, don’t let me know the answer. Show me—assuming I survive long enough to enjoy your victory.”