Page 55 of Dark Island: Rescue
"Because your escape, if done right, will do more good than harm."
"I'm sorry," Tula whispered. "For accusing you of protecting Navuh's interests and not thinking about what this might cost you."
"Apology accepted." Areana stood, brushing dust from her silk gown. "Use your guilt constructively instead. The better you perform your role, the safer everyone will be."
"Tony, Tamira, and Elias will be devastated."
"Better devastated than dead." Areana walked toward the narrow path that led back to the harem. "Come. We've been gone long enough that people might start wondering."
Tula followed, her mind spinning with everything they'd discussed, trying to process the reality of what lay ahead.
She would escape. Alone. Leaving behind the three people who'd become her allies, her friends, her fellow conspirators. They'd think her dead. Mourn her.
There was still a slim hope that the clan would come up with something brilliant that would make the impossible possible.
Tula clung to that hope as she walked beside Areana, even when the rational part of her mind whispered that counting on miracles was foolish.
But what else did she have?
20
KIAN
The mess hall's private dining section was starting to feel less like a temporary arrangement and more like their new normal. The same was true for their room in the former director's house, and sharing it with Allegra was more fun than Kian had expected, even if he did have to step over her scattered toys to get to the bathroom. It was cozy having her sleep between him and Syssi at night, but it precluded certain activities that Kian was looking forward to resuming when they got back home tomorrow.
Next to him, Allegra was making a mess of a stack of pancakes, her face smeared with syrup despite Syssi's frequent attempts to keep her clean.
"More syrup, Daddy!" Allegra demanded, pointing her fork at the bottle he'd pushed out of her reach.
"You have plenty." Kian gestured at her plate, which was swimming in the stuff. She might be immortal already with the metabolism to match, but too much sugar still made her hyperactive.
"More!" Allegra demanded and pushed up in her high chair to reach for the bottle.
"That's enough." Syssi intercepted Allegra's reaching hand. "You're going to make yourself sick."
Across the table, Kalugal chuckled while attempting to keep his own son from flinging scrambled eggs across the room. Darius had recently discovered the joy of food as a projectile, and Jacki was exasperated, looking at the mess he'd made.
"At least she's eating it instead of throwing it or wearing it," Kalugal said as Darius managed to get a handful of eggs in his hair before Jacki caught his wrist. "I don't know what has gotten into him. He's usually such a well-behaved little boy."
Phinas chuckled. "Like boys of all ages, he's trying to impress a girl."
Kian looked at Darius and realized that Phinas was right. Every time Darius managed to fling a piece of food before Jacki caught his wrist, he looked at Allegra with a little satisfied smile, and she smiled back at him, encouraging him to continue.
Syssi must have realized the same and shook her head. "We are going to have so much trouble with those two when they grow up."
"If you want, you can employ my services to compel your kids to behave," Drova said from the far end of the table where she sat with Jade and Phinas.
"Your job is to compel the recruits and the human workers," her mother said in a stern voice. "No one else."
"I know that." Drova rolled her enormous eyes, the typical teenage response looking out of place on her alienface. "Don't you know when I'm joking? I swear, you are as bad as the Russians. They have no sense of humor, and they are extremely difficult to compel, and given that I can compel immortals, that is saying something about how hard-headed they are."
"And yet you still succeeded in compelling them, right?" Jade asked, ignoring her daughter's comment about her lack of humor.
"Of course, I succeeded." Drova's tone was indignant. "But it took way more time and effort than it should have. The other nationalities are easy. I can do them in groups, and it takes one command. But the Russians..." She shook her head. "They either have natural shields or learn as infants to distrust everything."
"We've noticed the same pattern." Kian glanced at his phone again to check the time. "Russians, and to a lesser extent people of Russian descent, are more difficult to thrall and compel than others. It could be genetic or cultural—a learned skepticism bred by generations of living with constant government propaganda. They learn to question everything the government tells them, so maybe it creates mental habits that translate into resistance against thralling and compulsion."
"It's probably a combination of factors," Kalugal said. "Genetic predisposition enhanced by cultural conditioning. The brain is plastic, and it adapts to its environment. Constant vigilance against deception could strengthen neural pathways that make mental intrusion more difficult."
