EIGHT

Trevor's stomach convulsed as he broke the connection with DuPris. He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out hard, trying to get his revulsion under control. Necessary sacrifices, he told himself. Necessary. Sacrifices. He took another breath, blew it out, then realized DuPris was staring at him with a mix of amusement and condescension.

"My human body still has responses that are difficult to control," Trevor muttered. At least the responses to images of torture and destruction are tough, he thought.

"They are an extremely sensitive race," DuPris commented. "In an episode of Laverne and Shirley, Laverne actually stopped speaking to Shirley just because she thought Shirley was too friendly to her boyfriend."

"Uh, I didn't see that one," Trevor answered.

"I have it on tape," DuPris answered. He picked the purple-green Stone of Midnight off the coffee table and cradled it in his hand. "It's going to reach full strength even earlier than I hoped. Two more charging sessions and we should be there."

Two more. You can deal with two more, Trevor told himself. He rubbed his sweaty palms on the sides of his jeans, hoping DuPris wouldn't notice. There were dozens of members of the Kindred-no, more than that, hundreds-who had desperately wanted to join DuPris on Earth and work side by side with the rebel leader. Trevor had been chosen because of his relationship with Michael, but he was determined to prove that he would have been the best-possible choice under any circumstances. It was his destiny to destroy the consciousness, to finish the crusade that had been so important to his parents, the crusade they had given their lives for.

"I want to get some more work done on the ship today." DuPris began to teleport before Trevor had a chance to respond, clearly assuming that he would follow.

Trevor concentrated on the deserted warehouse they were using for a hangar and allowed his molecules to loosen and then disperse. He welcomed the blackness that overcame him as his brain scattered.

When his body re-formed, DuPris had already begun repairing one of the bashed-in sections of the ship. Trevor chose a deep crater at the opposite end of the craft to work on. He still didn't feel that comfortable around DuPris. With every move Trevor made, every word he spoke, he felt that he was being judged by the leader, judged and found to be somehow lacking.

At least he'd managed not to puke after their connections. It wasn't much to be proud of. But it was something.

Trevor rested his hands on the crater and focused on moving the molecules back into the correct positions. The metal of the ship was usually extremely adaptable, able to shift from solid to near liquid with minimal energy use, allowing for both strength and flexibility. But the molecules of the metal had been coded with a block that made manipulating them almost impossible for any being not connected to the consciousness.

Trevor strained to push all extraneous thoughts out of his head. Thoughts of Michael. Of his parents. Of the nearness of DuPris. Only the molecules, he ordered himself. If he was going to get past the block, it would take every neuron of his human brain.

Slowly the molecules came into focus. He could see them vibrating, see that the metal was in reality billions of separate entities. Trevor began to trace one of the molecules with his mind, searching for anything that felt off, anything that could tell him exactly how the block was coded. He examined the individual atoms and the bonds of positive and negative attraction that bound them together.

Everything appeared normal. So he moved on to the next molecule, scanning the atoms, their protons, electrons, neutrons, and quarks. Normal. On to the next. Normal. And the next. Normal.

Trevor felt frustration begin to build inside him. It could take the rest of his life just to examine the molecules in this one small bashed-in section of the ship.

He clamped down on the emotion-hard. He could allow no distractions. If his attention wavered even for a flicker, he could miss the code. He returned to his examination. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.

A dull ache started up behind his eyes. Trevor ignored it. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal.

The ache sharpened into a knife of pain, stabbing him in the same spot again and again. Trevor risked a quick glance at DuPris. The leader had his attention on the ship. You don't stop until he stops, Trevor told himself.

The pain moved deeper into his head, but Trevor continued his work. Normal. Normal. Normal. Normal. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. Normal. Normal. Normal.

"Take a break if you need one," DuPris called. Trevor shot another glance at him and saw that he was lying on the floor.

Trevors fingers trembled as he pulled them off the metal. He lowered himself to the ground and stretched out on his back, the pain dulling almost immediately.

"Couldn't we use the power of the fully charged Stone of Midnight for this job?" he asked.

DuPris didn't answer, and Trevor's blood immediately ran cold with fear. He turned his head to look at the leader. The cold expression in his green eyes made it clear that suggestions from Trevor were not going to be tolerated. Trevor forced himself to continue to meet DuPris's gaze. He didn't want the leader to sense any weakness in him.

"When the second Stone is charged and the ship is repaired, you will return home, bringing the Stone with you," DuPris announced.

I've failed, Trevor thought. He's seen my emotions go out of control when we connect, and he has decided he wants-

"You will select a squadron of soldiers from members of the Kindred," DuPris continued.

Trevor blinked, and relief flooded through him. DuPris still planned to give him a role in the rebellion. He hoped his near giddy happiness didn't show on his face.

"The squadron will escort you to the consortium chamber where the third Stone of Midnight is kept," DuPris continued, turning his head to stare up at the cracked and dusty ceiling of the warehouse. "You will instruct the freedom fighters to kill anyone who tries to stop you. You must make sure your squadron is big enough and well armed enough that no matter what the losses, the squadron will be able to get you inside the chamber."

"That's a suicide mission," Trevor burst out before he could censor himself. DuPris's plan would involve thousands of deaths. "Couldn't there be a… a more covert-"

"You will follow orders. So will those you command," DuPris answered, voice harsh.

Trevor's mouth snapped shut as his heart dropped. Why couldn't he seem to keep his idiot thoughts unspoken? He pushed himself to his feet.

"Yes, Leader," he said firmly, looking DuPris in the eye. He moved back into position in front of the ship, even though the pain in his head had returned full force the moment he stood up. He placed his hands on the metal, wanting to show DuPris that he was more than eager, more than willing-

To lead thousands to their deaths. The thought screamed through Trevor's head unbidden.

If that's what it takes, he told himself. If that is the sacrifice that is necessary, then it will be done.

Behind him, DuPris began to whistle. He paused for a moment. "Join me," he called to Trevor.

Trevor didn't turn around. He kept his eyes on the ship. "I don't know that song," he answered.

"Theme to the Andy Griffith Show," DuPris answered. "One of the best theme songs, second only perhaps to the one for Gilligan's Island." He began to whistle again.

Trevor swallowed hard. Less than a minute ago DuPris was planning the deaths of thousands of the Kindred, and now…

Now he was whistling?

What kind of being was-

Trevor forced the thought away before he could complete it.