Drew Karpyshyn: Retribution

Kahlee glanced at the assignment floating before her, then at the two boys. Nick stared back at her, his expression one of total innocence.

Nick had just turned fifteen. Always small for his age, he looked at least a year or two younger. His shoulder-length black hair and the wispy, curling bangs that fell down across his forehead did little to offset the impression of youth. But she knew he was mature beyond his years; if any of the students could look her straight in the eye and lie to her without giving anything away, it was Nick.

Yando, however, was another story. Eleven years old, he had had his amplifiers surgically implanted only a few months ago. Everything here was still new to him, strange. The instructors of the Ascension Project still filled him with a sense of awe, towering figures of authority looming over this unfamiliar world.

Kahlee wasn’t above using that to get to the truth.

“Yando,” she said, keeping her voice low but firm, “what were you really doing?”

The young boy looked from Kahlee to Nick and then back to Kahlee, his eyes wide and white against his dark face.

“We were playing Conquest,” Nick admitted with an exasperated sigh, letting his young companion off the hook. “But only for, like, ten minutes. Before that we studied for two hours at least!”

“You know the rules, Nick,” she replied. “No extranet after curfew.”

“It was just ten minutes!”

“I can check the logs,” she reminded him. “See if you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!” he snapped back defiantly, before adding in a lower voice, “Well, maybe more like twenty minutes.”

“Am I in trouble?” Yando asked, his lower lip trembling slightly.

Kahlee shook her head. “No. You’re not in trouble. But it’s time to get into bed, okay?”

The younger boy nodded, and she took him by the hand and led him to the door. Then she turned to Nick.

“We’ll talk about this when I come back to take your readings.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, his voice dripping with teenage sarcasm. “Hate to go one whole week without someone jabbing a needle in my neck.”

Kahlee led Yando to his room and tucked him in, but her mind was on Nick the entire time.

She wasn’t sure if she should punish him or not. In his first two years at the Grissom Academy, Nick had been a holy terror. Always ahead of most of his classmates in the biotic Ascension Project, he had been arrogant, selfish, and prone to bullying the other children. In the last year, however, something had changed. Nick had gone from a problem child to a model student, the perfect example of everything the Ascension Project was trying to achieve.

Among humans, biotics — the ability of some individuals to use their mind to affect the physical world through small bursts of dark energy — was a commonly known, but still misunderstood, phenomenon.

Many erroneously believed that biotics were mutants blessed with superhuman telekinetic powers.

Urban legends told of out-of-control biotics upending vehicles with a mere thought, or using their abilities to cause earthquakes while unleashing rampages of destruction that decimated entire city blocks.

The truth was much less terrifying. For one thing, contrary to what popular action vids portrayed, generating biotic fields took time and focus; it wasn’t something that happened instantly. And without the surgically implanted amplifiers wired into their brains and nervous systems, most biotics could barely tip over a cup of coffee.

With the amplifiers and years of intense training, talented individuals could learn to generate dark energy fields strong enough to lift a full-grown man from the floor and toss him roughly against a nearby wall, but doing so required intense amounts of physical and mental energy. Two or three such displays were all that typical biotics could manage before total exhaustion would set in, leaving them as helpless and vulnerable as any other man or woman.

Making the general public aware of these limitations was one way the Ascension Project tried to bridge the gap between rumor and fact. The hope was that understanding would lead to acceptance, allowing biotics to integrate into normal human society without suffering the irrational mistrust and persecution they currently faced. Indeed, outside of the military, most human biotics preferred to keep their talents hidden whenever possible.

Kahlee didn’t want children like Nick to grow up ashamed of their gift. But there was always the fear the pendulum could shift too far the other way, leading to an arrogant sense of entitlement or superiority among biotics. They could come to look down on others as inferior, making it even more difficult for nonbiotics to welcome them into society.

When Nick first came to the program, Kahlee had feared this was the direction he was heading. But the Ascension Project focused on more than just maximizing biotic potential; the curriculum also concentrated on building moral character, and in Nick’s case it seemed to have made a difference.

As he’d matured, the bully had transformed into a protector of the other students. He’d gone from sullen and selfish to helpful and cooperative. Now he regularly volunteered to tutor other students at the Grissom Academy — even the nonbiotics who weren’t part of the Ascension Program.

In light of all the progress he’d made, Kahlee decided she wasn’t going to come down too hard on him for his latest minor transgression.

When she got back to his room Nick was lying facedown on his bed, the nape of his neck exposed in preparation for the familiar procedure he was about to endure.

“I never meant for Yando to get in trouble,” he mumbled into his pillow as he heard Kahlee come in.

She sat down on the bed beside him, then reached over and carefully pinched the nape of his neck between her thumb and forefinger, wincing at the inevitable — but still slightly painful — static spark as she made contact with his skin. The Ascension Project had tried to find a way to regulate the excess electrical charge that built up naturally in a biotic’s body, but so far had experienced little success in coming up with a practical solution. For now, it was still a minor inconvenience the students and teachers simply learned to live with.

“Yando’s still recovering from his surgery,” Kahlee explained as she inserted a long, slim needle between the young man’s vertebrae and into the tiny subcutaneous transmitter. “He needs his sleep.”

The small ball on the top of the needle blinked green, indicating the data was successfully uploaded.

“He doesn’t like being alone in his room,” Nick answered, muscles tense and teeth gritted against his discomfort. “I think he misses his mom.”

He let out a long sigh when Kahlee extracted the needle, and his body relaxed.

“I thought maybe if we played some Conquest he wouldn’t be so scared.”

Kahlee smiled to herself and gently rubbed Nick’s shoulder.

“You’re a good kid.”

Still facedown, he didn’t answer, but she could see his ears turning red with embarrassment. He shifted slightly, and she realized he was trying to get more comfortable while being careful not to roll over, desperate to hide his body’s involuntary reaction to her touch.

He’s not a little kid anymore , she reminded herself, quickly pulling her hand away as what was happening to Nick dawned on her. He’s a teenager practically drowning in hormones .

Kahlee was aware enough to know that several of the older students had developed crushes on her. It was understandable: she offered them comfort and compassion, and though she dressed conservatively while at the Academy, with her shoulder-length blond hair and trim figure she was still an undeniably attractive woman.