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The general picked up his coffee and sipped it slowly. Then he reached for the tray of savories, sampling several. Obviously trying to decide just how much to tell her.
“King, here, is a product of Generation 18.”
So he was Maxwell’s brother—or, at the very least, his test-tube brother. She raised an eyebrow. “So Hopeworth is breeding children?”
“Special children, with special gifts. Not all weapons are mechanical, you know.”
The hint of pride in his voice rolled revulsion through her. Tiny children growing in a bloodless, emotionless vacuum, pawns to the military’s whims? What madness was that? No wonder King acted like a robot. He’d probably had any sense of humanity hammered out of him. “And the seventeen children placed into Greenwood twenty-two years ago?”
“Failures. Nowadays, we place them into care.”
Meaning that in the past they’d been discarded with the other rubbish? God, what sort of monsters were these men? “Why were they considered failures?”
“Because they were born human.”
And that was a failure? That they’d even managed to survive made them successful. “But why farm them out for adoption? Why not keep them in the military environment? Surely even mere humans could find a place in Hopeworth?”
His smile was cold. “If we wanted human soldiers, we could recruit them. Besides, we don’t have the facilities to raise children.”
Yet they had the facilities to raise their “gifted” children. What was the difference? “Then why were the failures being prescribed Jadrone? The drug has no effect on humans.”
The general raised an eyebrow. “The SIU has better information than we thought.”
Meaning such information would be buried deeper in the future. “The autopsies revealed severe bone degeneration in both Jakes and Maxwell. Why would that be?”
The general exchanged a glance with King. The younger man’s eyes went curiously blank again, and then life returned as he glanced back to the general. It was almost as if the general was asking permission to explain.
Maybe that explained King’s presence here—he was the link back to base. Which might also mean every word they said was being monitored.
But how, if Han had the scramblers up?
The general met her gaze again. “Though our failures could not shift or change, they still carried the genes. By manipulating them in the manner we did, we accelerated some of the problems that shifters face.”
“But only two of our four victims had the degeneration.”
He nodded. “It depends on which genes were matched. Some got lucky.”
Or unlucky, depending on your view. “Then why were the two without the degeneration being prescribed Jadrone? The drug is dangerous when used long term, and it kills changers outright.”
“We discovered a mix that hybrids can take with no ill effects.”
She wondered how they’d discovered it. Wondered how many had died in agony before they did. “Do you know if there’s a drug in development that can take Jadrone’s place?”
The general exchanged another glance with King. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Harry Maxwell was addicted to Jadrone. Yet a week before he was murdered, he gave up cold turkey. His supplier said he’d found something to replace it.”
“I know of no such drug.”
Was he lying? She wasn’t sure. Either way, it was obviously time to change the direction of her questions.
“Why do at least two of our victims have Emma Pierce listed as their birth mother when Hopeworth took her ovaries, and therefore all chance to have a child herself once she’d left the military?”
The general smiled. “You’ve certainly done your research, young lady.”
“I’m trying to save lives, General. We think someone is going after your failures.”
“It could just be coincidence.”
