Free Hero Born: Project Solaris by Chris Fox

Assuming you haven't already."
    "You're a telepath?" I asked, feeling that feather-light brush inside my head again. It suddenly took on a more ominous feel.
    "You're quick," Dick said, grinning. "Yes, I can hear your thoughts. Eventually you'll be able to protect against that, but for now you're an open book, David. You have no secrets that I can't pry from that impressive little brain."
    "What's your interest in all this?" I asked.
    "You mean how am I related to the grey men? Every person with abilities--you'd think of them as supers--was created by the grey men. As you're no doubt aware, all of us have an implant in our necks," Dick explained, touching his neck with two fingers to demonstrate. "We're tagged like animals, which means we can't run. Can't hide. The analogy is a good one. We're far, far more primitive than the grey men. Resistance, as I'm sure you're aware, is futile."
    "So you work for them," I said. "And let me guess, you want me to work for them too?"
    "It's not a matter of what I want, David. If you work for them you get to live. If you don't, well, they'll put you down just like we do a dangerous animal at a zoo. We're tools, like it or not. Isn't it better to live as a trusted servant, than to die accomplishing nothing? Principles are great, but they don't mean crap if you can't change anything and end up dead in the process." Dick gave a heavy sigh. "Your mother refused to be used. She started fighting back. You saw what the grey men did in response. She could have worked with them, and, if she had, then she'd still be alive today."
    "What is it you want from me, exactly? It seems like an awfully big coincidence that you happened to hire me, of all people," I said, even as the thought formed. It was all a little too convenient, a promising startup taking an intern from a junior college. Part of me had known it was too good to be true.
    "Fair enough, you want the pitch. Here it is," Dick said, leaning forward until his face was only a few inches away. "What the grey men want more than anything else is to contact their masters, wherever they come from. Doing that requires faster-than-light transmission."
    I blinked once, connections forming. "So...all the work we're doing here. You don't give a crap about faster global internet. You're building a way for the grey men to phone home."
    "Precisely. That's the reason I like you, David. You're quick. Can you guess why I'm so interested in you?"  
    "Because you think my abilities will speed the project," I said, a million questions rolling through my mind. Since he could hear my thoughts anyway I decided to ask the most important. "Why can't the grey men call home themselves if they're so advanced?"
    "Ahh, right to the heart of things. I asked the very same question, not a wise move. I was tortured in ways you don't even want described, and learned right then that some questions are safer not to ask. I don't know why they can't do it themselves, but it doesn't matter. What does is that if I'm the one to provide the tools they need, then I get to live. If not, then I'll be...recycled." The way he said the last word left no doubt in my mind that being recycled would be worse than death.
    "So if I don't want to be recycled, I need to cooperate with you?"  
    "I'd highly recommend doing so. Nor is working with me without perks," Dick said, magnanimously. "If you help me I can teach you to use your powers. With telemechanics, you can have wealth beyond your wildest dreams. You can delve into every secret on the internet. Hell, if you want to fight back, then you can do it quietly, on your own terms. But that only happens if you work with me first, if you help me give the grey men what they need."
    I didn't want to refuse out of hand, though every part of me cried out at the idea of working for the grey men. Could I honestly do that, if it meant being given time to come up with a real resistance? Would I be able to live with myself? Or was death preferable? Could I