The Ghost thought about his next words. "To what are you referring?"
"Still don't trust me?" There was no rancor in the comment. "Councilors are being targeted for assassination."
"It wasn't limited to Councilors," he told the other man. "Several high-ranking people in the substructure are dead."
"But," Judd said in a way that reminded the Ghost he'd once been an Arrow, an assassin, "it's not the catastrophe it could've been. So, what do you need?"
"The answer to a question." He laid out the facts dealing with the offer of voluntary rehabilitation. "Do I have any right to stand in the way of those who want to strengthen their conditioning? I've never been concerned with destroying Silence itself." His goals were deeper, older. He wanted to cut out the rot, excise the sickness that threatened to destroy his people all over again . . . while their Council watched, complicit in their deaths. "But the Protocol is a weapon the Council uses to keep the populace in line."
Judd took a long time to answer. "There's a difference between making a free choice, and making a choice because you're afraid of change. No one knows what the Net will be like with emotion - "
"We know," the Ghost said. "Before Silence, our race was on the verge of extinction." Violence and insanity had run rampant, savaging the PsyNet from within.
"Yes, exactly - before Silence. The Protocol's changed us, changed the Net. I'm alive today because of what I learned from the conditioning process. We won't go back to what we were."
The Ghost considered this new avenue of thought, realized Judd was right. There could be no comparison between past and present - the future was a true unknown. "The weak ones won't survive without Silence." They'd break under the weight of their gifts.
"No," Judd agreed. "Let them go. We can't make the choice for them - we can only show them that maybe, they can find another way. Emotion is a powerful tool."
Long after the conversation was over, the Ghost stood in the desolation of his lonely location and considered Judd's words. Emotion . . . No, he thought. That was a path he couldn't take. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
Because if the Ghost lost control, the Net would truly shatter.
Chapter 50
Mercy had intended to spend the morning discussing their untenable situation with Riley in the hopes of finding some kind of an "out," but he got roused from bed three hours before dawn. "What?" she said, barely lifting her lids as he answered his cell phone.
His claws shot out. Realizing something was very wrong, she sat up and put a hand on his lower back as he finished the call.
His eyes were wolf when he glanced at her. "Three young men from the pack didn't come home last night."
Fully aware how wild the young ones could be, Mercy knew there had to be something more. "No question it's foul play?"
A nod as he got up and began to dress. "Hawke called all three on their cells - those boys are over twenty and in training. No matter what they were up to, they'd answer."
Mercy pulled on her own clothes. "We'll mobilize our resources, help you look for them. Last known location?"
"A club in the city. It's - " His head jerked to Mercy's phone as it trilled an emergency code.
Grabbing it, Mercy answered. "Vaughn, what is it?"
"Get to the city. We're missing Nicki, Cory, Mia, and I'm sorry, Merce, but Grey's missing, too. They went out to dinner, never came home."
Grey. If someone had hurt her sneaky, funny, youngest brother . . . Stomach tight with a raw mix of fear and rage, she had to struggle to find the breath to tell Vaughn about the SnowDancer kids. He swore. "Start driving. Indigo was already down here for a night shift - I'll coordinate with her so everyone goes out in teams of one leopard, one wolf."
Hanging up, Mercy told Riley what had happened. Her voice broke when she got to Grey's name.
Riley gave her a crushingly tight hug. "We'll find them. Your brother struck me as someone who knows how to take care of himself and those around him."
She nodded. "He's tough. He fools everyone with that musical genius facade, but he can put Sage and Bas in the dirt when he's in the mood." Finding comfort in that, she drew away. "Let's go."
Riley looked at her. "How're your hands?"
Startled, she held them out. "Rock steady. Why?"
"Because I think this situation calls for your style of driving."
Mercy put her foot on the accelerator and made it to the city in half the usual time. They'd got a message to converge at Union Square, where search grids were being assigned, so she double-parked and they ran to the spot.