Free Fire & Soul by Siobhan Crosslin Page A

don't have names," I murmur.
    "How old are you?"
    "Seven standard years."
    "This is a particularly fast-maturing line," the Overseer murmurs. "We expect a rapid turnaround with little cost to emotional stability and learning rate."
    "You're trained," the man says after a brief pause.
    "Nine kinds of martial art." I let my eyes flick down his body. "As well as other arts."
    The Overseer hisses and I flinch at the sound of his voice. "I apologize, Eminence, this one gets mouthy. If the geneticists decide to cultivate the mutation, that will most assuredly be bred out."
    "It is a remarkable mutation. What are the advantages?"
    "Far superior night vision, and an ability to see in greater detail as well as a three-point increase in memory recall. We suspect an increase in intelligence as well, but further testing is required."
    "Are you intelligent?" the man asks.
    "Very," I say.
    "You're mouthy and disrespectful?"
    "Frequently." I let my pupils change, know they'll shift from slits to round, and surrounded by blue instead of green.
    He pets my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp and I surprise myself by wriggling closer, so close I could rest my chin on his knee if I wanted to.
    The Overseer clears his throat. "Eminence, 6-8 is not for sale. He is merely a demonstration of potential future offerings. As I said, this is a rapidly maturing line."
    "We'll come to an agreement," the man says without looking up
    "Jheghda, his price would be exorbitant," one of the men seated nearby says.
    "Yes, Eminence, the potential breeding stock alone—"
    "I do believe I don't give a damn." I rest my cheek on his knee so I can stare up into his eyes. My heart's beating heavily in my ears and my face feels hot, but I can't look away. "You're mine," he says, softer, and I nod. "Njande." His voice has the faintest hint of a question, but I know exactly what he's saying.
    "Yes," I say, and my voice is hoarse. "Yours."
    I come back into my own body with a nauseating wrench. Njande is gaping up at me, his pupils round and shocked. "You—"
    "Njande!"
    Njande and I jerk around; Jheghda is fighting with Fehr, but his eyes are on Njande and I realize he's worried . It must look like I have the advantage.
    Njande tries to shove me off to get to his feet, but I slam my elbow into his gut and take his seconds of breathlessness to slam his head into the ground. I know I have to keep Njande away from Jheghda and we wrestle messily, him trying to escape and me just trying to get him to stay .
    "Temsha—" I shove a knee in Njande's solar plexus, cutting him off. Blood from a cut above my eyebrow streams into my eyes, and I hesitate for a split second at the desperate tone in his voice. "He doesn't need to die," he pleads, his hand scrabbling helplessly at my shoulder. My grip on his hair slackens and he strikes, driving a knife into my shoulder. I let go with a shout and he shoves me away, struggling to get to his feet in the blood and bodies on the tile.
    I rip the knife out of my shoulder reflexively, and try to go after Njande, ignoring the pain in my shoulder and the blood. I stand in time to see Fehr get under Jheghda's guard and drive his long knife up into Jheghda's chest.
    Njande screams, the sound raw and desperate. I fall to my knees, my vision graying around the edges.
    Mikscn appears next to me, his hands rough and shaking as he ties a bandage around my shoulder. I look numbly down and realize I don't know what's wrong with Mikscn, don't know why he's shaking, if he's injured or worried or both. The silence in my mind rings through my ears and I watch Njande cradle Jheghda's body, his low keening wail replacing the sounds of fighting as the last of Jheghda's men are either killed or surrender.
    I stand when Njande collapses on Jheghda's chest and shouts echo down the corridor from the elevator. I pick up my knife, Mikscn supporting me when I nearly fall over, and make my way cautiously through the men and bodies between me and Njande. I don't make a