And the experience had obviously left her more than a little off-center. "Why didn't you bury her, Rose? Why not offer her the dignity in death that she couldn't get in life?"
"Because once the soul has gone, the body is only a lifeless shell. It doesn't matter what happens to it."
Rose and Emma where born shifters, and yet, they obviously had none of the beliefs that were ingrained into most shifter families. Maybe it was because they'd been adopted at such a young age and raised by humans. But even humans buried their dead.
He shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in his side where the glass had cut. His fingers brushed against something sharp. More glass. If he could grab it, he might just be able to cut the ropes and escape. All he had to do was keep her talking and her attention elsewhere.
"It is a belief among my people that if the body is not properly interred, the soul cannot go on and be reborn."
Rose raised an eyebrow. "And sticking them six feet under is supposed to aid this rebirth?"
He smiled grimly. "Sticking them six feet under is nothing but a waste of good planting soil."
"Well, at least we agree on something." She turned away and continued her pacing. "Let's go back to your earlier question. Why do I cut up these innocents, as you call them, so badly?"
He raised an eyebrow. He'd asked that question a good five minutes ago. Had she just decided to answer, or was she simply trying to keep him talking?
"Emma wanted them dead, I'm sure," he said. "But you wanted them to suffer. To suffer as much as your sister had suffered."
She stopped, and regarded him in surprise. "Very good, Assistant Director. And yes, I wanted them to know what Emma had suffered to give them life. I wanted them to die suffering, just like her."
She turned away and resumed her pacing. He caught the shard of glass between his fingers and began to saw at the rope.
"You must understand something about Hopeworth — it never lets people go. Not completely. Everything Emma did, everything she said, Hopeworth heard. Even though she was useless to them, they couldn't let her go completely. It was the same with the adoptees, though not for the same reasons."
"You can't be sure of any of that." Blood was slick on his wrists — he seemed to be cutting himself more than the damn rope.
"Yes I can." Her sudden smile was bitter. "Emma was microchipped, you know. Hopeworth wanted to be certain of her location at all times. The adoptees didn't need it, however. They were bugged psychically."
Several strands of rope gave away, giving him a little more movement. Blood rushed to his fingertips, tingling painfully. He ignored it and kept on cutting.
"How can you bug someone psychically without them knowing?"
"The same way a thief can pick your pocket without you knowing. It just takes knowledge and timing."
If this were true, then Hopeworth might know a damn sight more about the Federation than anyone in the Federation wanted. Miranda had been privy to more than a few secrets.
"So Hopeworth has stealth-trained telepaths?" Which was harder to do than most people realized. The human population seemed to think telepaths could just read thoughts anywhere, anytime. In reality, it was nowhere near that simple. If it were, telepaths would be on a fast track to insanity. Besides, even the most psychic-dead human could usually tell when he was being read — it was like walking into your house and realizing you'd been burgled. It was something you could just sense.
"My, you're not just a pretty face, are you?" Her voice held a sarcastic edge. "Of course Hopeworth has stealth trained telepaths. They've been breeding talents and God knows what else for close to fifty years."
He met her gaze. In the green depths of her eyes, intelligence mixed with madness. A deadly combination. "How do you know all this?"
"My reject friend told me. He'd been doing a little investigating himself, trying to figure out where, and what, he'd come from. He's stolen an amazing amount of information from the military with them being none the wiser."
If they believed that, they were fools. He had a suspicion very little escaped Hopeworth's attention. "Your reject friend wouldn't happen to be that misshapen giant I felled, would it?"
"And he's more than a little pissed off over that, you know. I had to promise to let him kill you after I'd finished with you, just to calm him down."
He snorted softly. "I'm sure you intend to kill me anyway."
"Oh yes. But at least I would have been quick about it. Old Orrin savors the suffering. It feeds some need in his soul."
Which was as good a reason as any to be well and truly out of here by then. Another strand of the thick rope snapped loose. Time. He just needed more time.
"Sounds to me as if you should be attacking Hopeworth more than the innocent by-products of their experiments."
She gave him a cold smile. "We intend to, once I fulfill Emma's dying wish."