Free Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) by Jacob Gowans Page A

casualties—”
    “Are a part of war, Sammy,” Thomas said.
    “I can’t accept that!”
    “Neither can we,” Lara said. “Which is why we trust
you’ll figure out what went wrong, and improve.” She smiled tenderly at him
before pulling him into a hug. “I—I have wept for my part in those
deaths, Sammy. I know you have, too. So has Thomas. And while I wept, I
reaffirmed my commitment to freedom so that those deaths will not have been in
vain.”
    “‘How can I forget that stillness prevailing over
the city of three hundred thousand?’” Thomas’s eyes had that faraway look they
got whenever he quoted poetry. “‘Amidst that calm, how can I forget the
entreaties of the departed wife and child through their orbs of eyes cutting
through our minds and souls?’”
    “I appreciate your advice and sympathy,” Sammy told
them, “but I’ve made up my mind. I won’t lead another mission.”
    That conversation took place a week ago, and Sammy’s
mind hadn’t budged. He wondered if this was what Commander Byron wanted to
speak to him about. Behind him, Jeffie, Natalia, and Strawberry came into the
cafeteria for lunch. As Sammy had spent a great deal of energy avoiding his
friends, his first instinct was to move away quickly before they spotted him.
He hunched his shoulders, ducked his head, and headed for the nearest door.
Unfortunately Commander Byron was entering through that door at the same
moment.
    They nearly bumped into each other. “Whoa, Samuel,”
Byron said. “I was looking for you. Nice of you to come to me instead.”
    “Commander, I was just heading to a meeting,” Sammy
lied.
    “Oh, is that right?” The commander’s tone told Sammy
that he didn’t believe him. “May I walk with you? I have been wanting to have a
word.”
    “Yeah … I know.”
    The commander’s bright blue eyes shined even as
Byron smiled sadly at Sammy. “Samuel, you need to face the facts of what
happened in Detroit.”
    “I have faced them,” Sammy said, still heading
toward the stairs to the tunnels, pretending as though he had a meeting.
“That’s why I told your parents I’m done leading teams. I’m done with the
leadership council.”
    “Then what meetings could you possibly have if you
are quitting all those things? Have you joined the janitorial crew?”
    “Don’t make fun of me!” Sammy shouted.
    The expression on Byron’s face told Sammy he
regretted making a joke. “Sorry.” The commander put an arm around Sammy’s
shoulders and steered him into an old, non-renovated classroom where dozens of
old desks had been stacked in piles. Byron used his sleeve to wipe away the
dust off the large teacher’s desk so they could sit on it.
    Sammy slumped down, his elbows resting on his
thighs, and his face in his hands. The commander sat next to him. “Six hundred
seventeen,” he said, “that is the latest count I heard. I bet you can imagine
them. I have no doubt the growing number has been on your mind for the last
twelve days. You know how I know?”
    Sammy made no effort to respond.
    “Because I have also killed innocent people.”

 
 

 

5. Blame

 
 
    Friday, May 9, 2087

 
    “OCTOBER 31 st , 2065,” said Commander Byron. His brow
furrowed and his gaze grew distant. “Do you know what happened that day?”
    “The Battle of Quebec.”
    It did not surprise him that Samuel remembered his
history lessons well. He remembered everything well.
    “Every account I’ve read of that battle said only
the Elite were involved.”
    The commander nodded, even more impressed now.
“Officially the Psion Corps was not involved in that battle. On the books it
was Elite only. However, unofficially, it was all Psions in Elite uniforms.
Militant rebel forces had captured several government buildings with hundreds
of captives, some high-ranking. Reports at the time were unclear if it was a
military operation or a civilian coup.”
    Byron and his father had fought over this very point
a month later