Nadia's Tears: Devya's Children

Devya’s Children Book 2:

Nadia’s Tears

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By Julie C. Gilbert

Love Science Fiction, Fantasy, or Mystery?

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Dedication:

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To friends:

Cara Guglielmon, Chrissy Guglielmon,

Lucas Dalenberg, Laura Ginn, and Sharodka

To the talented cover artist and true friend:

Timothy Sparvero

Special thanks:

Jon Kilburn, for the inspiration about the crystal chandeliers

Emma Sibilla, for the baby elephant analogy

(Any remaining mistakes are my own, despite their efforts.)

Important People:

(Warning: may contain spoilers)

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Dr. Carla M. Wittier – Jillian’s old shrink lady

Dr. Stephanie Sokolowski (a.k.a. Dr. S.) – Jillian’s new shrink lady

Jillian Blairington/Ashlynn – thirteen-year-old Dream Shaper

Danielle Matheson – babysitter for Blairington family; Jillian’s friend

Dr. Devya – researcher, creator of Devya’s Children

Dr. Evelyn Carnasis – researcher, associate of Dr. Devya, mother of Jillian, Benny Connelly, and Aiden

Cora – associate of Dr. Devya, mother of Dustin

Dr. Karita Robinson – former associate of Dr. Devya, mother of Malia and Michio

Dr. Jessica Paladon – former associate of Dr. Devya, mother of Varick and Nadia

Maisha – cook for Dr. Devya

Dr. Victor Parris – assistant to Dr. Devya

Devya’s Children:

Varick – Soldier

Nadia – Minder, Elena, Nadie, Naidine

Ashlynn – Dream Shaper, Jillian Blairington

Malia – Empath

Dustin – Devya’s Telepathist

Reeve – Second Dreamer, Benjamin Connelly

Michio – First Nanomachine Controller

Aiden – Second Nanomachine Controller

Table of Contents:

Dedication:

Important People:

Summary: ITEM 1-72:

Prologue:

Chapter 1: Worries

Chapter 2: The Michio Question

Chapter 3: The Search for Private Ayers

Chapter 4: Glimpse into the Lion’s Den

Chapter 5: Not So Happy Birthdays

Chapter 6: Surrender

Chapter 7: Trouble at School

Chapter 8: Time Marches On

Chapter 9: Valuable Commodity

Chapter 10: Varick’s Cryptic Warning

Chapter 11: Kind Lies

Chapter 12: Winter Wonders and Other Surprises

Chapter 13: The Things You Do For Family

Chapter 14: Warm Welcome

Chapter 15: Jillian’s Letters

Chapter 16: Small Lies, Big Trouble

Chapter 17: The Queen

Chapter 18: In Better Hands

Chapter 19: Fourteen and Four

Chapter 20: Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen

Chapter 21: Two Words

Chapter 22: Tears and Trouble

Chapter 23: Always a Hostage

Chapter 24: Friend in Need, Friend Indeed

Chapter 25: Renee

Chapter 26: Not an Angel

Chapter 27: Lanier’s Lads

Chapter 28: Brenton

Chapter 29: Battle for the Mind

Chapter 30: Crown Jewels Part One

Chapter 31: Crown Jewels Part Two

Chapter 32: Interview with Carlos

Chapter 33: The Eighteenth Gift

Chapter 34: Two Fierce Fights

Chapter 35: Leaping into Danger

Chapter 36: The Shattering

Chapter 37: Toast is Not Fried Chicken

Chapter 38: Family Discussion

Chapter 39: The Translator

Chapter 40: Evidence

Chapter 41: Gift Untaken

Chapter 42: Strange Escape

Chapter 43: One More Issue

Chapter 44: Flying Away in Style

Chapter 45: A Captive No More

Chapter 46: Growing in Grace

Chapter 47: Varick’s Quest

Chapter 48: Audience with the Queen

Epilogue:

Thank You:

Summary: ITEM 1-72:

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The items in question represent a private collection of letters and journal entries compiled by psychologist Dr. Stephanie Sokolowski. The vast majority of said letters and journal entries were written by Jillian Marie Antel Blairington, a child with the peculiar ability to shape people’s dreams, and her babysitter, Danielle Matheson. Several additional letters come from those who can shed light upon Jillian’s strange abilities or share insights into her personality and character.

The beginning journal entries from both Jillian and Danielle recount the ordeal of being kidnapped at the behest of Dr. Dean Devya. In essence, the kidnapping boiled down to conscription, a harnessing of Jillian’s talents to discover the location of another project. The other project, a boy named Benjamin Connelly, was adopted by rather high-profile parents. Thus, the scientists were eager to return him.

Danielle Matheson’s journey starts with her as an unfortunate hostage to the scientists’ plans for Jillian. Through the terror and uncertainty of shared events, the two young ladies develop a deep friendship. Danielle’s letters in particular speculate upon the meanings the events could have for both of their lives.

Along the way, Jillian discovers several genetically altered brothers and sisters who possess powers from miraculous healing to telepathy. After Jillian finds Benjamin, Nadia, the sister with many intellectual Gifts, orchestrates a daring escape for Jillian and Danielle.

Prologue:

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ITEM 73: Carla Wittier’s third letter

Item Source: Dr. Carla M. Wittier, handwritten letter

To Dr. Stephanie Sokolowski:

I found an original of one of Jillian’s early journal entries. It might not tell you anything new, but at the very least, I think it’s worth mentioning for the sake of forming a full picture of her.

Regards,

Carla M. Wittier, Ph.D.

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ITEM 74 (formally ITEM 5): Jillian’s fourth pre-kidnapping journal entry

Item Source: Dr. Carla M. Wittier

You should know by now that Jillian Marie Antel Blairington—that’s me—always keeps her promises. The only promise I never kept was the time I told JJ I’d teach her how to skin a rabbit, but that wasn’t really my fault.

I meant to keep it, but the days just got on and I sorta forgot. Then, Nicholas VanUrp went crazy during recess when we was in the third grade and poor JJ couldn’t stand knives no more. At the mere mention of a knife she’d act like a newborn mouse pup caught in a kitten club.

I think I’ve told y’all that Jimmy Denson is my best friend, but if I didn’t before, I’ll tell ya now. Jimmy’s other best friend that ain’t a boy is JJ Kamelson, and though she weren’t ever my best friend, I always liked her. Her real name is Jasmine Janeelee Kamelson, but everyone—except her momma—just calls her JJ.

Mommas get all sorts of stubborn when it comes to names. Jimmy sometimes calls me Jilly and Nana always calls me Pudding Cake and my Old Daddy used to call me Smart Chip but not Momma. No sirree, to Momma my name’s always been and always will be Jillian during normal circumstances and variants of the whole thing depending on how much whatever I done annoyed her.

The day started out just fine. It was an early October or late September Thursday. I can’t remember which exactly, but I do remember it was a Thursday ’cause it was pizza day. One day long before this I brought Nana to school for Showoff Your Grandparents Day. She said the school pizza had enough grease to float horseshoes.

Anyways, after lunch we all raced out to the playground like we was busting out of prison. JJ reached the best set of swings, the ones still sort of shiny that don’t squeak as much as the others, and claimed ’em for herself, Jimmy, and me. I don’t know how she did it, ’cause all of us had the school pizza which always sits in the stomach like a rock setting up housekeeping. Nicholas VanUrp and the two loudest members of his praise team were only two steps behind JJ, but she was there first, fair and square.

Move it, Nick ordered.

That’s right. You tell her, Atkins Watson said to Nick. He and Payton Browning is always saying things like that.

I complained about ’em to Nana once, and she said their words were better fitted for a good Southern Baptist church service.

JJ just smiled at ’em sweet and proper-like. Jimmy and I slipped past Nick and his shadows and stood behind JJ to show ’em we wasn’t gonna back down.

JJ reached the swings first, I said, stating the obvious.

Doesn’t matter. Nick said to move, Payton replied.

A dangerous look came into Nick’s eyes just then, causing me to back up a half-step. I recognized it ’cause my Old Daddy once took me bear hunting, and that’s what the momma bear looked like when we accidentally shot her cub. Luckily, my Old Daddy’s three hunting buddies all shot the momma bear before she smacked my daddy clear to Kansas.

It was also like the look Momma took on when she learned my Old Daddy had taken me bear hunting. I thought for sure she was gonna haul off and bite him, but she settled for yelling ’til she was all tuckered out and needed a lie-down. Anyways, that’s what Nick looked like. It was as good as announcing he was gonna do something stupid.

Next thing I knew, Nick was screaming his head off and swinging a shiny knife around like he had to ward us off. That does it!

Jimmy stepped in front of JJ and jumped backward, knocking his head hard into hers. It busted her nose good and didn’t do much good ’cause Nick’s knife caught Jimmy’s chin anyway. I don’t remember moving, but I musta ’cause I found myself in a heap of tangled arms and legs with Nick, Atkins, and Payton. To make matters worse, my right hand hurt like I’d gone three rounds with a brick wall.

More hands than I could count pawed at us, trying to sort us out, but they only managed to make things crazier, like people playing piñata with a beehive.

When it was over, I saw that the knife had bit JJ on the right arm pretty deep and scratched Jimmy’s right cheek twice more in addition to the chin. I was gonna try to comfort ’em, but so many people was shouting that JJ and Jimmy wouldn’t have heard me anyway.

After the ambulance people took JJ and Jimmy to the hospital and the cops hauled off Crazy Nick and company, officially ending the incident, as everyone refers to it now, the school’s shrink lady had a long talk with me. She kept patting, rubbing, and squeezing my good hand ’til it felt almost as out of sorts as the one that gave Crazy Nick a fitting black eye to go with his dark heart.

When Momma and Nana arrived to pick me up, I heard the shrink lady say that it was a sad case of a victimized little boy striking back at his tormentors and that I was just in the wrong place at the right time to experience tragedy come to fruition.

I was about to set her straight, but one look at Momma’s not now face told me to keep shut a little longer. I closed my teeth together so hard I was sure they was all gonna crack to pieces.

On the way to the car, Nana said, Don’t listen to a word of gibberish that nasally pinhead uses to justify her existence, Pudding Cake. You come home with yer momma and me, and we’ll have some tea. Then, you can tell us what really happened.

That’s just what we did. We went to Nana’s house, and Momma and I let her stuff us full of sugar cookies and blackberry tea. I told ’em exactly what happened like I told y’all right now.

Poor Momma. She’s always had a complexion of what Nana calls the prettiest shade of cream white, but after hearing what Crazy Nick did to JJ and Jimmy, she lost all color in her face for a good hour. I thought she might yell, but instead, she became real quiet. It was a very peaceful evening all in all.

The best part of the day—besides missing the second half of school—was getting to visit JJ and Jimmy in the hospital. They seemed fine physically, but the doctors wanted to keep ’em overnight to make sure their heads was okay. I didn’t mind. I got to sneak sugar cookies to my friends when the nurses weren’t looking.

Chapter 1:

Worries

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ITEM 75: Jillian’s thirty-fifth post-kidnapping journal entry

Item Source: Jillian Blairington

Dr. S. said I ought to I write down anything and everything that worries me. Trouble is, since Daddy Three found me and showed me how to use my Dream Gift, there’s a great heap of worry to be found all over the place. Nana said worry beyond a certain point only weakens the soul, and Nadia agreed in sentiment if not actual say-so. That means they both said the same thing using different words.

Daddy Three, Dr. Dean Devya, Quinn, Father—as Nadia calls him—confuses me, which I count unsettling enough to file under worrisome. The man’s a weird mix of super-smart, real ambitious, and crazy with a side of cruelty that can steal your breath away. I asked Nadia why some people call him Quinn, and she said it means counsel. I guess that’s how he sees himself ’cause he’s the driving force behind a team of scientists who seek his counsel. That means they ask him questions and he answers or questions ’em back until they solve their problems. Miss D. used to do that a lot; it got mighty frustrating.

Dr. S. wants to know why Dr. Devya worries me. I find it disturbing that he feels humans are collections of genes that can be tinkered with at will. I ain’t ashamed of what I am, but I can’t square what he’s done with the notion that God forms babies in wombs. Does being lab grown mean we ain’t human? Writing the question makes it sound dumb, but I’m serious. What am I?

Deep debates aside, Momma and Isaac worry me for more mundane reasons. Isaac Spencer Blairington is my new baby brother. He’s loud, cranky, and demanding, but Momma, Nadia, and Nana say that’s normal for a baby. He’s cute if you can catch him at a time when he ain’t redder than a fire engine. He gets that way when he’s full into a shrieking fit. Those hurt ’cause the little guy’s got good lungs.

My New Daddy—Mr. Jeffrey Michael Blairington—teases Momma by saying Isaac’s loudness musta come from her side of the family since he was a perfect angel as a baby. Nana admitted that could be true ’cause Momma was a loud baby.

Momma—Allison Michelle Blairington—worries me ’cause she keeps having these crying fits. They probably mean she’s just worried about me or stressed about Isaac. He worries me ’cause he’s perfect, but he’s part of my family and that means he’s in danger. Nana says I ought to not put such pressures on myself, and Nadia tried to tell me the probability of Isaac being in danger from Dr. Devya is very low. Still, I can’t help it.

Danielle got sucked into a whole heap of trouble just ’cause she was babysitting me. Dr. S. said projecting my worries on to my family might be part of what worries Momma so much. She also said I need to face these fears here and now and keep on facing ’em until I beat ’em.

TJ worries me ’cause he’ll eat anything. The other day he almost had the TV remote for a chew toy. I got it away from him while it still worked, but it was thoroughly gooed by that point. TJ spit is not all that pleasant. I’m afraid that if he was a mite bigger he’d try to swallow Isaac. It’s a good thing he’s just a little bite of a beagle. Dr. S. said a dog might be a good idea ’cause then I’d have a companion while my parents are busy raising Isaac, but I dunno. TJ’s kinda a handful. If we don’t pay enough attention to him, he howls up a storm.

Varick and Michio worry me. I’ve been assured many a time that they’re doing all right. Those nice FBI agents, Julie Ann Duncan and Patrick Duncan, called some people they know and got Varick and Michio placed in a safe home. It only lasted for a few months though ’cause then summer ended and the family wanted to send Varick to school. He took Michio and ran away. I think he shoulda left Michio with the family, but I understand why he didn’t. Still, open road ain’t a place to raise a child, especially one with Michio’s Gifts.

Varick sometimes visits me in my dreams, but I don’t know much about his current situation. Other times, Varick invites me into his dreams to play The Immortal Warrior or The Immortal Warrior II: Quest for the Lost Heirs. Both games are fun, but the second one is more important ’cause it might help us free the others someday.

Guess Nadia worries me the most. I try not to think about it, but my insides are all bunched up. Nadia and I have talked every day since she helped Danielle and I escape, but she’s been silent for three whole days. She hinted that changes might be coming, but I didn’t bust my head trying to understand it at the time. Nadia can be queen of all things cryptic when she sets herself to it.

Dr. S. wants to know what reasons I’ve got to worry for Nadia’s sake, and I ain’t rightly sure where to start. I know they changed locations soon after our escape, but that don’t change much. The fact that my sister is still within the same compound as Dr. Devya makes me uneasy, but as Dr. S. said, Nadia’s been his prisoner, student, daughter, and experiment all her life. So long as the situation is consistent, Dr. S. assures me there’s no cause for worry.

I asked Dr. S. if I could just claim gut feeling, and she just gave me half a smile and shook her head. I racked my poor head again and again and finally settled on one fact that is disturbing above all else: Nadia’s silence.

Nadia Elena Ayers always has something to say, though she only sometimes voices her opinions. Mostly, she just analyzes situations and attends to her training. I hear her opinions because I bother to ask her about ’em. She’s not perfect but she is wise far beyond her years. In a way, I think that’s sad, for not much wisdom is ever earned from safe things like books. It is won through toil, purchased with blood, sweat, tears, and sometimes pain. That’s how she explained it.

Tonight, I’ll ask Varick about Nadia. She talks to him more than she talks to me, so maybe he knows why she hasn’t visited me in such a long time. I didn’t say anything to Danielle ’cause being a full-time student and a huge help to my momma gives her plenty to occupy her mind.

I hate to admit it, but Dr. S. was right. Writing down my worries made ’em much less scary. I just hope whatever’s keeping Nadia from talking to me is simple to explain and solve. When I see her, I’m not sure if I wanna punch her avatar or squeeze it in a painful hug.

Chapter 2:

The Michio Question

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ITEM 76: Danielle’s eighteenth letter

Item Source: Danielle Matheson

Dear Dr. S.,

I apologize for the long, long, long gap between letters. I believe I previously mentioned that my mother hired summer tutors to prepare me for my senior year. That’s right, tutors, plural. So while my friends whiled away their days on a beach, I suffered through Understanding Physics, Chemistry: The Central Science, World History, Antigone, The Glass Menagerie, and other literary delights. Between that and keeping Mrs. B. sane during the last few months of her pregnancy, my brain was too fried to wrestle with Jillian’s mental demons, too.

Now that school’s back in session, I can relax a little. It’s not the kick back and forget the problems of the world sort of relaxed, but I have enough emotional energy to know Jillian’s worried about something. No offense to her mom, but Mrs. B.’s still a bit of a basket case when it comes to worrying that Dr. Devya will do something disruptive again.

I guess Jillian comes by the worrying honestly. It’s a point for nurture over nature, seeing as Mrs. B. and Jillian apparently share not one drop of blood. That whole mess aside, I don’t think Devya’s what has Jillian upset.

I think I could spend my whole life studying Jillian and still not understand her. Maybe I should rethink my current life goal of becoming a psychologist. Not that being a psychologist is bad; it’s just that I don’t know if I can take the constant state of not knowing the real heart of an issue. The direct approach may work with Jillian, but I’m not sure how many normal people it would work on. I’m not calling Jillian abnormal in a bad way, but she’s definitely special.

Ha, that sounds almost as bad. I give up trying to make it sound politically correct.

I finally cornered Jillian and made her tell me what weighed so heavily upon her mind that she nearly gave the new puppy a whole can of tuna fish.

Did she tell you about their puppy? He’s certainly cute, but he also has a spiteful little spirit. If he’s mad at you, you’d better keep your shoes on your feet. Let’s just say it’s safer—and drier—that way. Poor Mr. Blairington found that out the hard way. I don’t think he was very amused by TJ’s prank.

After much hedging, Jillian finally admitted her concern for Nadia’s safety. If I didn’t know it would make her hopping mad, I’d have laughed. Of all Devya’s Children, save perhaps Varick, I believe Nadia is the most capable of taking care of herself.

I’ve had several conversations with her. She started with an apology and explained her reasons for leading Devya’s henchmen to snatch me rather than Mr. or Mrs. Blairington. Despite being on the wrong end of that logic, I agreed with her assessment of the situation. That’s just it, Nadia’s the epitome of logic, reason, and sense, but she’s not necessarily what one would call predictable.

I did my best to reassure Jillian, but upon further questioning, she admitted contacting Varick in a dream and told me the contact had worried her even more. I’m sure she could give you a much more detailed report of Varick’s current plight, but the basic gist as I understand it is this: Devya wants Michio back. Devya’s more than happy to have Varick off in the real world, continuing his training through petty crime or simple lessons in survival, but he’s convinced they’d both be better off if the younger boy were returned to his care.

Quite frankly, I’m torn on the issue. Nobody asked my opinion, but I sort of agree that Michio would be safer with Devya. Safer doesn’t necessarily translate to better off. I don’t like how much control Devya can exert over all these children. I can just see that getting out of hand very quickly. Besides, Michio is probably mentally better off with Varick. I can’t believe I just said that.

Poor Michio. The kid probably doesn’t have a chance in the world if his two father-figure options are a crazy scientist or a crazy soldier-boy prodigy of that crazy scientist.

Mrs. B. and Isaac are down for the count. Jillian’s doing homework. I’d better go check on the roasting chicken. Who’d have thought I could be so kitchen handy?

The Apologetic, Dilatory Letter Writer,

Danielle Matheson.

Chapter 3:

The Search for Private Ayers

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ITEM 77: Jillian’s thirty-sixth post-kidnapping journal entry

Item Source: Jillian Blairington

I’m gonna kill him when I catch him.

Nana wouldn’t have approved of my uncharitable thought, but right then, I was more concerned with ducking bullets. I’d already spent more than half the night hauling my weary avatar through level after level of hostile beings trying to smash, skewer, burn, blow up, stab, or shoot her. Nana definitely wouldn’t approve of the level of violence in this game Varick dreamed up in his head.

While I paused a moment to let my avatar catch her breath and recover her yellow stamina bar, I thought of Varick and what he must have experienced so far in his life to be so well acquainted with violence.

The other striking quality of his dreams is the detail he puts into everything in the background. The insects and small critters make normal rackets and scold you with righteous fury if you bother ’em. The trees and flowers give off odors just like real ones. The rocks definitely hurt if you fall on ’em. I don’t understand why Varick bothers with making everything so realistic. Dr. S. suggested he might seek the world in his mind as an escape from reality. She could be right; she usually is.

A triumphant, defiant shout yanked me out of my thoughts rather effectively. I didn’t have to look to know there would be a blond young man beaming down at me. I’d seen it all before. His uniform would be covered in dirt, his face would bear smudges from

crawling through the muddy forest, and he would have a Pistole-08—otherwise known as a Luger—pointed at my face. He was chattering away in German. I couldn’t understand a word he babbled until I came to my senses enough to burn a little of my blue magic bar.

His words came to me in good old American English then. Halt! Keep your hands visible. Do not attempt to escape or I will shoot!

I sighed and wondered how many times I’d have to turn this boy-man into a toad before he’d quit bothering me. As I prepared to do just that, it occurred to me that the previous six times I’d turned him into a toad he’d hopped straight back toward the camp and somehow set off the alarms releasing more guards. Just as my power charged enough to affect the soldier, I changed a few commands and wished he was a slug.

The soldier yelped in surprise and vanished from sight. A quick search of the surrounding leaves revealed a tiny, convulsing slug. I thought he might bust out of his skin trying to escape my mental hold. As much as I didn’t wanna touch the thing, I fought off my urge to fling him away and reached out to gently touch the slug, willing him to rest. Then, I picked him up in a leaf and tucked him in a pocket. I’d have to remember to take him out of the pocket before I changed levels or he might be an unsightly mess by the time I appeared in the next level.

Three steps in the direction I’d been going, a new thought occurred to me. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. I always got to this part and got captured or killed by the guards released by the toad. Plucking the leaf-wrapped slug from my pocket, I imagined he could understand me. My blue magic bar pretty much vanished, and I felt very dizzy. Conscious not to squish the slug into a pasty mess, I sank down to the ground to recover.

Where is Private Ayers? I asked, feeling a little dumb to be addressing a slug. I waited a few seconds before my tired brain remembered that slugs can’t talk. A quick glance at my magic bar said I had about half my usual power. Hoping it was enough, I turned the slug into a turtle.

This ... is ... rather ... unnatural, drawled the turtle.