When the lights to her sleeping berth came on the next morning, Sam found her hatch locked and her bladder full. She waited until a tap came. "Sam? You in their, bestie?"
"Hey, Jess, I'm locked in still."
"We need to talk. The other girls are weirding me out."
"Mind control," she shouted back.
"Why did I think joining an alien fleet was the best way to avoid seeing my ex?"
Sam increased the rate of precursor flowing into her and reached out with her kinetic senses to pop the hatch. She swung herself out and looked around to make sure Darla wasn't there.
"What is the deal with your superpowers?"
"I think that info is confidential," Sam said.
"WTF, Sam?"
"I know, I know. This is a life and death kind of thing. Or so they say."
"And who is they?"
"The people who told me to keep my mouth shut," Sam said.
"Is your own personal Dumbledore part of that group?"
"My own personal Dumbledore? Are you ripping off a Depeche Mode song?"
"Who gave you magic powers and swore you to secrecy?"
Sam squinted at her friend. Saying anything was probably a bad idea, but this was Jess. "She was more of a Wonderwoman than a Dumbledore."
"Badass," Jess said, "but I needs some deets."
"I really shouldn't say anything . . . but I think I won the superpower lottery. Telekinesis, skin hardening, and genius level IQ. There were politics involved. I'm like the Rosa Parks of the superpower embargo. Unless someone murders me first. By the way, you need to blend in with the other women so they don't start locking you up in your bed too. And now I have to pee." Sam rushed to the bathroom. When she emerged, Darla stood at Sam's empty sleeping berth.
Darla scowled at her. With a snap of her fingers, she summoned Sam to her side. They walked down the stairs to first floor, where Darla brought out a length of rope that gave Sam pause. She decided to consent to her binding with the understanding that she could escape with the talents she had gained. The woman left back up the stairs after binding Sam to a pipe.
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Several hours passed before Ayla crept down the stairs. "Sam! I sent messages to Aunt Cassandane. She will fix everything, just wait and see. Don't worry. I have to go back upstairs now. Darla doesn't want anyone talking to you until after you have another agent in you." The sound of a door opening elsewhere sent Ayla sprinting back up the stairs.
At approximately noon, the outer doors opened to admit a man and woman. Darla followed them inside. "She isn't controlled by an agent."
The man squinted at Sam. "Kelvin is a craftsman. One of his agents wouldn't crumble in less than a week."
Darla crossed her arms. "So interrogate her."
With a scowl, the man slammed his hand over Sam's forehead in an iron grip. She froze. For a moment, nothing happened, then she felt a strange inversion of the experience of expanding her mind. Like an immaterial shadow eclipsing the sun. With a leap of intuition, she understood that this was nous under the command of someone else. Not considering the consequences, Sam pulled precursor through the hole in her mind. Her intelligence blossomed in a moment. Time seemed to slow as she saw the man's eyes grow large. His hand pulled free as he stumbled backwards.
"She vasted!"
The other woman pushed forward. "You're telling me someone exposed her to nous?"
"Obviously," the man replied.
"Who? Darla, you're the only noetic here."
A harsh growl came from the large woman. "I barely have any dregs left of my talent. You think I would waste it to attune an outsider?"
The man snapped his finger. "So what now? Report her?"
"Well, killing her isn't an option," the woman said. "Is it?"
Sam glared at them. "Stay the hell away from me."
The three withdrew a short distance away and exchanged uncertain looks. Darla broke the silence. "We're dealing with treason. We have to call in . . . everyone."
Nods came in response. Sam bit her lip as she watched the resolve solidify on their faces.
Just before they could make a move, the door to the receiving room unlatched itself and rolled up. Everyone turned to watch a dapple-skinned Cassandane enter with an elderly man and a floating ball of quicksilver.
"Executive," Darla stuttered, "someone attuned one of the English."
"He knows," Cassandane said. "I did it."
The orb of quicksilver melted to form legs and arms, then a lump rose upwards to form a head. The features sharpened until a silvery humanoid stood among them. Then the thing spoke. "A new paragon. I am pleased with you, Stateira Cassandane. Executive Wentrell Gaius, you should capitalize on this opportunity to get the kinetics you need." The silver person became a statue with the last word.
Cassandane gestured for Sam to come to her and the bonds on her wrists fell apart. "Come with me, Sam. You're staying by my side until we establish your legal status here."
The silver humanoid suddenly animated. "Stateira Cassandane."
"Yes, Navigator?"
"The answer to your question is Kerzon."
"My question . . . I understand, Navigator. Thank you."
The silver humanoid collapsed upon itself to once more form a floating sphere that floated out of the room. Cassandane gestured sharply for Sam to join her. Together, they backed towards the open receiving door. Darla's froggy voice assaulted them. "You are a traitor, Stateira Cassandane. A damn treacherous Aoleyen."
Cassandane's features didn't change at the accusation. "History will judge my actions even as it forgets yours. I may be lauded as a savior twice over for my actions."
A kinetic force enveloped Sam and propelled her out the door at the side of a levitating Cassandane.