minds, his shields so effective that he had to alert Ivy to his presence before she could spot him.
Her own psychic presence held sparks of color unseen in any minds except for those of Designation E.
Kaleb had experienced the harsh viciousness of Silence firsthand, but even he had difficulty imagining the brutal extent of the conditioning each E must’ve undergone to have been so completely smothered.
To Kaleb, the fact that the Es had survived at all proved a mental resilience unseen in any other designation in the Net. “Have you considered working for a corporate?” he asked Ivy as she moved to examine the dead and disintegrating section.
“Why? Looking for a new hire?”
Kaleb already had two Es on his staff. As such, he was far ahead of the curve—the Es were so stretched that even those more suited for corporate work were being asked to take up heavy lifting in the Honeycomb.
Asked, not commanded.
That was the difference between the Empathic Collective and many of the other organizations in the PsyNet. It was as well they had the backing of the Arrow Squad or no one would take their requests to non-empaths seriously. A hundred years of Silence had taught the Psy that only the ruthless and the cold-blooded survived.
Kaleb had believed the same until he found Sahara again. The woman for whom he’d extinguish the world—except that she’d asked him to save it—hadn’t lost herself in spite of the horror she’d survived. She’d come out of it with her soul and her spirit intact, was still the same generous Sahara who’d first extended the hand of friendship toward a boy who knew only pain and isolation.
If there was a ruthless bone in her body, he hadn’t found it yet.
Then had come the empaths. Kaleb had seen those empathic sparks of color, begun to comprehend the mental strength it must’ve taken for an E not to break despite being in a psychic stranglehold for decades. He knew what it was to be leashed, to have that leash pulled until he couldn’t breathe.
Those who underestimated the Es would one day get a very nasty surprise.
“I thought you might’ve become sick of politics by now,” he said to Ivy. “I can offer a pay package that’ll take you immediately into the top percentile of earners in the world, and you’d be working in a far less stressful environment.”
“You’re very good,” she said with open amusement, “but I’ve settled into my position in the Collective.”
Despite his offer, Kaleb had thought as much; Ivy Jane Zen had started out unsure if she could lead, but these days, she was a force to be reckoned with. “The offer is open to any high-Gradient E who wants a more regular nine-to-five job.”
While the Honeycomb needed every E in the Net, it had become clear that not all Es could bear the pressure. Those Es remained useful in other capacities, including in specialized medical professions and to corporates who wanted an edge on their competitors during negotiations. Empathic ethics might not allow for active scans without the permission of the individual being scanned, but as changelings picked up scents without trying, Es picked up the emotional undercurrents in any given situation.
Even in “passive” mode, they tilted the scales to their employer’s advantage.
Ivy was quiet for a long time as she focused on the problematic section of the Net, but when she spoke, her answer was unexpected. “I’ll keep that in mind. I wouldn’t recommend jobs at most of the corporates to my people, but you . . . yes.” As if guessing his surprise, she said, “Because of Sahara. She’d never let you mistreat an E.”
Again, Kaleb wasn’t certain he liked being in any way predictable. Sahara, he telepathed to the woman who had held his heart in her hands from the day they met, please refrain from making me appear “nice” or trustworthy. Especially to those of Designation E.
Sahara’s laughter was light in the darkness, a brightness that encompassed the most twisted corners of his soul. No chance of that. Underneath the glittering night sky on the outskirts of Moscow, she came out of the house to wrap her arms around him from behind. The Es know exactly how dangerous you are—but they also know you and your abilities are on their side.
I’m only on one side. He closed one of his hands over hers. Yours.
Look after my friends, won’t you, Kaleb?
Stop making so many.
I love you, too.
His lips curved slightly as he returned his attention to