Page 32 of Where Lightning Strikes Twice
“This isn’t a joke,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea how serious this is? Unauthorized research, withheld intelligence, potential collaboration with enemy forces—these are treasonous offenses during an active conflict.”
“Is that the official position, or are you here as my brother?” I ask quietly.
His expression softens slightly. “Both. Director Voss contacted me directly. She thought I might be able to… mitigate the situation.”
“By convincing me to cooperate?” I cross my arms. “To help them develop bioweapons against the Storm Eagles?”
“By convincing you to share your research for the protection of our people,” Marcus corrects. “These aren’t just academic subjects, Elena. They’re predators who’ve killed hundreds of settlers.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” I say. “My research indicates the Storm Eagles are acting from resource desperation, not inherent aggression. And their genetic structure is unique—they’re not just another wild clan. They’re living conduits for primordial magic.”
Marcus sighs, running a hand through his military-short hair. “This is exactly what Voss warned me about. You’ve become so obsessed with the scientific implications that you’ve lost perspective on the threat they pose.”
“Or maybe I’ve gained perspective you don’t have,” I counter. “The Storm Eagles aren’t mindless killers. They have a society, a culture, and leadership that’s trying to prevent all-out war. The bioweapons Haven’s Heart is developing won’t discriminate between warriors and children.”
“How would you know about their leadership?” Marcus asks sharply, his tactical mind catching the implication immediately. “Unless…”
I remain silent, unwilling to lie to my brother but unable to confess the truth.
Marcus studies my face, realization dawning. “The pure blood sample. You’ve had direct contact with them, haven’t you?”
“My research required uncontaminated specimens,” I say carefully.
“Don’t give me scientific evasions,” he snaps. “Have you met with Storm Eagles? Communicated with them? Shared information?”
The accusation in his voice stings, but I hold my ground. “I’ve done what was necessary to understand them.”
Marcus paces the small room, visibly struggling between familial loyalty and military duty. “Elena, I can’t protect you if you’ve actively collaborated with them. The best I can do is argue for leniency based on your scientific contributions.”
“I don’t want protection,” I tell him. “I want you to look at my research objectively. The Storm Eagles aren’t what Haven’s Heart thinks they are. And what the Council is planning isn’t defense—it’s genocide.”
“What exactly do you expect me to do?” he demands. “Go against direct orders? Risk my own position to validate your unauthorized theories?”
“I expect you to think for yourself,” I say quietly. “To consider that maybe, just maybe, there’s more to this conflict than Haven’s Heart’s official position. Just like there was more to the Northern Forest situation five years ago.”
He stiffens at the reference to the controversial military action that we’d disagreed about so bitterly—an operation later revealed to have been based on manipulated intelligence.
“This isn’t the same,” he insists, but with less conviction.
“Just look at the data,” I urge. “My complete findings, not just the sanitized version Voss is presenting. The Storm Eagle genetic structure, their attack patterns, their resource targets—it all points to a people fighting for survival, not conquest.”
Marcus is silent for a long moment, his expression torn between skepticism and concern. Finally, he sighs. “I’ll review your research files. That’s all I can promise.”
It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it. “Thank you.”
He moves toward the door, then pauses. “The transport arrives tomorrow morning. Whatever Voss decides, you’ll be returning to Haven’s Heart for a formal inquiry.”
My heart sinks. Sooner than I expected—which means Kael’s rescue attempt, if it comes at all, will have only one chance tonight.
“I understand,” I say.
Marcus studies me, brotherly concern momentarily overriding military protocol. “Elena… whatever you’re thinking of doing—don’t. It will only make things worse.”
After he leaves, I sit on the edge of my bed, mind racing. Marcus’s unexpected visit has changed the calculation. If he truly reviews my complete findings, he might understand the implications of what Haven’s Heart is planning. But that would take time I don’t have.
The afternoon passes in tense anticipation. I pace my small quarters, watching the sun track across the sky through my window. As evening approaches, a second meal arrives, along with unexpected news from the guard.
“Dr.Ashford? Director Voss has authorized the return of your personal effects.” He hands me a small box containing items from my lab—basic toiletries, a change of clothes, and, remarkably, my tablet.
