Page 108 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

108

Disclosure

V alor

“This can’t be good,” Willow says as she paces our small cell.

“Why?” Braveheart asks.

“It’s great that her arrival stopped those guards’ attack, but this is bad. That was Jahzara Zedd. She’s the voice and face of The Game vid series.”

After we give her questioning stares, she continues.

“It’s this sadistic show that appeals to the lowest, basest interests. They used one hundred contestants for the first season, then one hundred male/female pairs for the second season. They keep throwing challenges at the contestants until only one person or pair is left.

“In the first season, the people had to kill each other. In the second season, they had the local wildlife and environment finish everyone off.”

She shakes her head and shivers as she remembers it.

“That psychopath didn’t show up on this prison planet in the middle of the night for her health. I have a feeling we’re about to become famous in the worst way.”

Her heart is fluttering in her chest like a trapped bird. I rise from my bed, lift her in my arms, and carry her back to sit on my lap.

The Feds taught me how to do many things with my psychic powers. None of them were to provide aid or comfort. I can kill with my thoughts in forty different ways—at least I can when they’re not dampening my abilities. I only discovered how to use my skills to help others since Willow entered our cell.

I tuck her head under my chin and rock her. Immediately, her heart rate slows, and her muscles melt against me. I’ve never felt so powerful as when I do this simple act of kindness and see the results.

She’s a beauty, this one. And the kindest person I’ve ever met. That’s not really a feat, considering I’ve never met a kind person before. Braveheart isn’t a bad male, although I wouldn’t describe him as kind. Nor would I have described myself that way until four days ago when Willow joined us.

I feel her anxiety ramping again, only this time it seems different somehow. I place my index finger under her chin and tip her head toward mine, then lift an eyebrow.

Even though my powers are diminished from when they’re at their height when I’m sent into battle, Willow is easy to read. I try not to climb into her mind. I don’t want to intrude. I want her to trust me, although wanting her to trust is a big request. She’s skittish.

She shakes her head in response to my unspoken request for her to tell me what’s bothering her. I lift my brow again because her fear is spiking, and it doesn’t seem directed at the Zedd female.

“You two are going to hate me,” she says, her face a picture of misery.

“Why?” Braveheart asks.

I sift my fingers through her long blond hair, calming her with every stroke.

She slides off my lap and walks to the doorway. After a swift glance from side to side, evidently remembering how one of the guards struck her when she was in that position, she leans against the bars and folds her arms across her chest. It’s a defensive posture.

“The male winner of the last games was a geneslave.” She lets that last word hang in the air, making certain we heard her correctly.

She must have figured out that’s what we are. That doesn’t bother me. It’s what I am, like saying Willow is a human. It’s a simple fact.

“That’s what you two are, right?” She unconsciously touches under her collarbone in the same spot as my numbered tattoo.

I nod. Braveheart says, “Yes.”

“I’ve been keeping secrets,” she whispers, then squeezes her eyes tight, as if she’s waiting for us to strike her.

“Willow, we all keep secrets. We’re prisoners,” Braveheart says. “Prison isn’t a safe place to spill information someone can use to harm you.”

She nods, takes a deep breath, and relaxes a notch as I wonder what this has to do with that awful Halckon female who walked in here and treated all of us, guards and inmates alike, as if we were lower life forms.

“I’m pretty sure I know a secret that can make you stronger. I saw it on Down to Two .”

When she pauses, fearful to continue, I pat my lap. She eases over and perches on one of my legs as if she’s not sure I want her here. I snug her against me and use my powers to comfort her. This seems to loosen her tongue.

“One of the winners of Down to Two , Anubis, had something in his back. It was under his skin between his shoulder blades. It worked on a remote control. During his downtime, when he wasn’t being used as a soldier, it filled him with female hormones and made him more docile than was his true nature.”

I don’t question her for a moment. My mind puts together various moments in my history, and many things slot into place. I was poked and prodded a thousand times in my life until I barely paid attention during even the most intrusive procedures.

Now that she mentions it, though, I recall several times when medical personnel focused on the territory between my scapula.

“When they sent him to war,” she continues, “they turned him most of the way up. It made him more… animalistic, angry, aggressive, and… sexual.

“He started the game one way. He was kind of docile and…” She blushes. “Unable to perform in bed. The program showed everything. Even that. I don’t know what triggered his transformation in The Game . Maybe Zedd had the controller. A day or two into the program, he became more beastly, and… very sexual.”

What she’s saying gives the answers to so many questions I’ve pondered.

“When his female removed it, he was more his true nature.”

Fucking Feds! Braveheart thinks at me. Fuckers! Look what they did to us! They made us into something, then wouldn’t let us be our true natures. Only when it suited them!

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt such strong anger coming from him.

“It’s okay you didn’t tell us sooner,” he growls. “Why didn’t you, though?”

“I…” she glances at the floor.

Neither Braveheart nor I say a word. We’ll wait silently all night to hear the rest of the story.

“I was afraid you’d rape me if I helped you remove the devices. The Intergalactic Database calls what they’re doing to you ‘chemical castration’.”

She must feel terrible. Just look at her face. It’s the picture of misery. I hold her more tightly, making sure she feels my compassion. I may not agree with her choice, but I understand it.

“It took over a day to clear Anubis’s system. I think we should remove your devices tonight. Who knows what the network is up to. Whatever it is, I have a feeling you’ll need to be at your peak fighting form.”