Dearest readers,
   I always hate a hiatus, but unfortunately one is going to be necessary.  A combination of very long work weeks the last two months and the amount of travel I'm going to have to do for the holidays is going to make regular posts of this series an impossibility.  It's been a thrilling four months of serialization, but I'm going to have to spend some time building a back-log for Chrysalis Experiment: Series One to return.
   My plans are to resume serialization early next year with episode thirty five on February 1st.  I am going to continue the bi-weekly schedule at that point, even though I could theoretically run twice as long with one post a week, two posts a week just feels right.
   So, have a happy end of the year, enjoy your friends and family, and I will be back in February!

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    Chekhov approached the company car which would take him to the airport.  He heard a commotion from above and looked up.  He could see a person standing at the edge of the roof.
    “Is that-?” he paused, “Maryja?”
    He saw her lean backwards and enter into a free fall down the ten story building.  He heard a girl whisper in his ear, “Fly!”
~~~~~~~~~~
    As she plummeted through space, Mashka expected any second to feel the brief impact with the pavement.  She felt an odd curiosity, 'What would it feel like, that moment when I touch the pavement, the instant between life and death?'   
    'Why did I jump anyway?'  She felt slightly amused that she was having such afterthoughts.  It was an action out of helplessness and spite, an extra helping of the latter in particular.  
    She found it interesting that she was not being pelted by the rain anymore, but simply falling with it, so she could see every little droplet suspended above her.  She resigned herself to fate, after allowing a second to enjoy this one-time beauty of being surrounded by a sea of prismatic beads.  
    'Any moment now.' She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain of reaching the sidewalk below.  But she made contact with something far softer than cement.  Opening her eyes she realised she was still in the air, the ground several metres away.  Around her waist and shoulders, she could feel the tight embrace of an unknown saviour.
    When she turned her head to behold her unexpected champion, she was surprised to see Chekhov.  Furthermore, he was flying.  'This can’t be right.  Am I dead, or dreaming?  And whichever one is the case, why is he here?'
    Chekhov flew around the building and down an alley across the street.  The motion made her heart jump and her head spin from the inertia.
    Finally finding her voice, she shouted “You can fly!?”
    “Hold tight!  This landing is going to be rough.” Chekhov warned her.
    She followed her instinct and hugged him tightly.  She looked towards their intended destination.  He was heading right into the side of an abandoned apartment building.
    He raised his open palm in front of him.
    'The superman routine?!' she thought, 'Is this guy for real?  We are going to die and he’s trying to look cool?!'
    Just before the two were to smash into the brick wall, Chekhov diverted towards a window.  Something invisible erupted from his extended palm causing the glass to shatter before them, and they tumbled into an empty bedroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~
    Tears gathered in Aleksei’s eyes. He was almost ready to break down from the sorrow billowing in his chest.  But he noticed everyone turn their eyes towards him.  Looking into their faces, his grief and fear were replaced with wrath.  He crossed his forearms then flung them out horizontally.  The falling rain and water on the roof evaporated and rushed in a wave, blowing everyone over.  Then as he raised his hand, the entire roof disappeared into a cotton-ball cloud.
    Gritting his teeth resolutely, he ran towards the edge and jumped.  Spinning, he flung out his arms, directing a large column of mist to launch him into the air.  He burst out of the cloud, twisting his body around to face forward.  Before him was the closest building outside of the Association's grounds.  With the help of another burst of vapour just as he began to fall, he tumbled and rolled onto the other roof.  The cloud crashed atop of him and billowed over the edge of the roof like a sluggish waterfall.   He lay panting where he stopped, and with every breath, he felt the bruises that covered his body from the landing.  
    Next to death, heights were his greatest fear.  Yet just now he had, for a moment, conquered the heights.  It was both an exhilarating and terrifying experience.  Gingerly he rose, and looked at the cloud enshrined headquarters.  He needed to get away before the mist cleared, and find his sister, or her corpse.
    'God, I know this is asking too much, but please let my sister be alive!'
~~~~~~~~~~
    Chekhov got up from against the wall.  Just before contact, he had twisted around so he would act as a cushion for Mashka.  He felt pops and snaps all over his body as he stood up.  After one last resonating crack, he offered a hand to Mashka.  She took it and gingerly rose, favouring her left leg.  
    She averted her face from Chekhov’s view as she spoke, “You can fly?”  Her voice was dangerously low, and carried a threatening lisp, as if her speech was obstructed.
    “Wel-” he wasn’t able to finish because Mashka gave him a firm right hook to his cheek.  Then she grabbed his neck and wrist, shook him, and pinned him against the wall, as her claws dug into his skin.
    “You’re one of us!” she roared, raising her yellow eyes to his and baring her elongated canines.
    He averted his gaze from her slit pupils, “Just calm dow-”
    “Look at me!” she screamed, forcing him to make eye contact.
    He complied, and met her gaze. 
    “You let them treat us this way, acting superior in your normalcy, and you are one of us!”  Her body shook involuntarily, causing her claws to draw blood from Chekhov’s neck under her firm grip.
    For a moment they just stared into one another’s eyes, his grey, hers yellow.  
    “You’re afraid,” she said in realisation, “You fear me, what I am, even though you are only another side of this coin.”  Her face became a snarl as she spat out the last words, “They don’t know?”
    “Nyet, they don’t,” he replied, being careful to maintain eye contact.
    She continued in her canine induced lisp, “You deny who you are, so you can force others to be what you fear.”  Her hand loosened, and finally released him.
    Chekhov breathed in deeply. He watched as the girl’s expression turned to one of anguish and betrayal.  Her final quiet phrase burned into his mind, “Despicable hypocrite.”
    He could sense that she was about to cry.  He raised a hand to touch her shoulder.  It was smacked away and she opened her mouth to reprimand him again, but she stumbled backwards, her face contorted in agony.  Not knowing what to do, he watched as her body returned to normal.  She fell to her knees and wept in pain and relief.
    Chekhov crouched down and hesitantly put his hand on her shoulder.  “Are you alright?  I mean, you aren’t hurt, are you?” he asked.
    She calmed herself and wiped her eyes.  Brushing her hair back, she stared at the wall blankly.
    “Feeling better?” he asked with a kind, sideways smile.
    She looked up at him and matter-of-factly stated, “I’m going to throw up.”
    “Um,” he looked around in panic and saw the bathroom door.  He put her arm over his neck and he brought her to the sink, where she promptly began evacuating the contents of her stomach.
    Wincing at the spectacle, he excused himself, “I’ll wait out here.” He walked back into the bedroom and sat on the bed.  His neck hurt from the bruises and scratches made by Mashka‘s claws.  He removed his tie and unfastened his top button to relieve any pressure on the injuries.  He gingerly brushed the healing gashes on his cheek and reflected that he would be scratched to ribbons if he kept on Miss Sharova's bad side.
    Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and removed the battery.  The Association would try to track him as soon as they discovered he was gone.  Things were not going well for him.  As soon as The Administrator put two and two together, they would realise the only way that Mashka could have survived, was that a jinn had saved her.  And the fact that he disappeared at the same time, was too convenient.  Not to mention that his driver probably saw him take off into the air.
    His hands were shaking.  It had been so long since he had flown.  He had even forgotten that he could.  At least until the self-proclaimed “Apparition” told him to.  All those memories of his past came back in an instant, painful memories.
    Mashka emerged from the bathroom, her face washed and her hair put in relative order.  She walked over to Chekhov and sat down next to him.
    They sat in complete silence for what seemed like an eternity, looking at everything else in the room except each other.  The sun peeked through the clouds, warming their rain-soaked backs.
    Finally Mashka asked.  “When did you find out you could fly?”
    “I was twelve.” he replied, “I, I loved it, too.  However, I stopped when I lost…” his voice trailed off before he continued. “-- someone important.  Haven’t flown since.  I guess I presumed it to be a childhood fantasy, and forgot about it.”
    “Huh,” Mashka replied.  “Even so, I wouldn’t just forget that I flew.”
    He shrugged his shoulders and asked, “But when you were a kid, did you not think Father Christmas was real, but as you grew up you forgot about how strong that belief was?”
    “No,” she answered simply, “I was Jewish until I was fifteen.  We didn’t have Christmas.  But I think I understand what you’re saying.”
    Chekhov nodded, feeling stupid for forgetting what he read in her profile.
    Mashka looked up to the wall in front of them, absent-mindedly brushing the broken glass under the bed with her shoe.  She gripped her knees tightly, trying to hold back her tears of shame.
    “What is it?” Chekhov asked, concerned.
    Through her sobs she spoke, “By jumping, I decided to end it all.  But all I did was selfishly leave my little brother behind.  I am no better than you.”
    Chekhov watched quietly as the girl tried to compose herself.  He wanted to find something kind to say to her, but nothing seemed appropriate.
    At last her sobs faded away and she looked at him with new determination. “So,” she asked, “what do we do now?”
    “Probably the best thing would be to find your brother.”
    She nodded, remaining silent for a moment.  Finally she muttered a question, “So that’s it?” she said with a critical gaze.  “We rescue my brother, and you just join up with us?  We ride off into the sunset like a perfect American western?  You have already violated my trust once.  What’s to keep you from doing it again?”  She still could not help but feel suspicious.  She even contemplated knocking him out and heading out alone.  'But he did save my life,' she reminded herself.  'And I know nothing about this city.'
    Chekhov looked her in the eyes, for two reasons.  First, it was polite and, more importantly, he would like to have an early warning if she went berserk, as the eyes seemed to be the first sign.  “Perhaps the fact that I have nowhere else to go.  They did not know I had an ability.  I have wanted to get out of the business for a long time anyway.  And frankly you don’t have a chance without me.”
    “What do you mean by that?” Mashka challenged.
    “Because, unlike you, I have connections here and abroad.  If you want to disappear, I am your man.”  he said pointing at his chest confidently.
    Mashka nodded, “Very well, I believe you.  And since you so obviously have a keen sense of self-preservation, then hear this.  If you ever seem like you are double-crossing me,” she accented each syllable of her last phrase with a firm poke to his chest, “I will tear out your entrails and feed them to you!"
    He nodded, “I’m not going to cross you, I swear.”
    Looking at his face she could tell he was being honest.  She sighed and said, “If you’re a man of your word, there is no reason to swear, ‘Let your da be da and your nyet be nyet.  Now, how do you suggest we find Aleksei?”
    He shrugged nonchalantly, “Misplaced clouds would be start.”
    “I regret this already.” Mashka answered wearily, however she was unable to squash a slight smile.

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​    The elevator doors opened to The Association’s rooftop and the trio of conspirators were met by at least four guards, three well-built men and a short, but capable looking Tuvan woman, The Czech, and The Administrator.  This was more of a crowd than Hamid had expected.  He had listened in on all their plans.  They would only change them if… his eyes widened, they knew about the bug!  He held his composure as well as he could.  Perhaps it was just because The Administrator decided to see them off.
    The three walked towards the helicopter whose blades were already starting to spin, kicking up a breeze around the three guards.  The scent in the air told that rain had been falling just minutes ago.  They were almost to the copter when The Administrator beckoned Hamid to him.
    “Dr. Hamid,” the older gentleman said, “The Czech is taking your place.  You’ll be going later with Anya.  After all, we can’t have two belligerent numbskulls in the same copter can we?” The Administrator chuckled humorously.
    Aleksei and Mashka shared a worried glance, now unsure of what to do next.
    'We’re done for, the plan is done for.'  Hamid thought to himself.  'All of us put together are no match for The Czech.'  He saw the bald man’s cold eyes meet his, a smile played on his lips.
    The Administrator turned to Hamid, “Oh I have some unfortunate news,” he said sympathetically, “Dr. Katharina Roth met a sad end.  She told us she knew you well.” he paused, calmly adding, “And your motives.”  The Administrator laid a comforting hand on Hamid’s shoulder.  Then he dropped the façade, lowering his voice dangerously, “We will deal with you later.”
    The siblings were pushed towards the copter by two of the agents.  Both of their minds were racing, trying to escape the situation.  
    'If Hamid’s not going with us, this is not going to work,' Aleksei thought as he approached the aircraft, 'I don’t know how to fly a helicopter!  We should bail, but how?'
    Cautiously Aleksei and then Mashka climbed the ramp to the passenger seats, their hair whipped around in the wind from the roaring chopper blades.  It was Mashka who made the first move, pretending to trip and fall forward.  One of the guards tried to catch her, but Aleksei lashed out backwards with his foot, over his sister’s head, catching the otherwise considerate guard in his chin.  This was followed by Mashka’s elbow to the unfortunate man’s gut.  Aleksei jumped down.  The other guard almost grabbed him by the shoulder but he avoided him with a back-flip, which he repeated four times, to afford him some distance.
    Mashka stood still, staring blankly at the man bent over from her strike.  He coughed and blood spattered on the cement.  Her eyes widened, realising how easily she had struck with such force.
    Aleksei had expected her to take the chance to run.  “What’s wrong Mashka?” he yelled over the noise.
    “She’s unsure of her position it seems.” The Administrator replied, his voice somehow piercing the din and offering a charming smile.
    Mashka shook her head, “I can’t Aleksei.  What if--, what if we belong here?”
    Aleksei’s mouth dropped in shock, then he retorted, “What do you mean belong!?”
    “You may not know this, Aleksei,” she said, “but bit by bit I’ve been losing to this thing inside me, and I am scared!  I can’t risk being unable to control it, otherwise I am going to hurt someone, maybe even you!  If I stay with them, that won’t ever happen.  I could find a purpose, perhaps even change the world.”
    Aleksei’s answer overflowed with pain, “Mashka...  they are Soviets!  Don't you remember what they did, the blood covering their hands!?"
    Despite his shock over his sister, Aleksei had been discretely covering the entire roof with a thin layer of vapour, allowing him to monitor any movements.  He was trying to figure out the best way of escape and how to bring Mashka back to reality.  Then he saw her nod, her face out of view of the others, giving a reassuring look just to him.  He relaxed inwardly; it was a diversion to delay their captors.
    Sweat poured down Dr. Hamid’s face and dripping from his chin.
    One of the guards discreetly stepped behind him putting his gun to his back.  “You’re going to come with me to a quiet place.” 
    The doctor knew he was about to meet death.  He allowed himself to be led a short distance, then turned and attacked the guard, knocking the gun from his hand.  He dove behind one of the large roof vents as the other agents opened fire.
    Mashka took advantage of the distraction and ran towards Aleksei.  But an agent got in the way, so she dodged behind one of the vents.
    Aleksei noticed The Czech turn towards Hamid.  He thrust his hand forward causing some of his fog to shoot out like an extension of his arm.  As it moved, it increased in size by pulling water up from the wet rooftop.  The Czech raised his gun.  Aleksei knew he would not make it in time.  The bullet passed through the vent and exited the other side, piercing the back of the doctor’s skull, killing him instantly.
    The Czech was hit full force by Aleksei’s serpent, which knocked him off his feet, throwing him until he hit another vent, leaving a sizeable dent.  The other agents quickly aimed their guns at Aleksei.  He dropped to the floor and evaporated the puddles around him, then rolled behind a vent.  He felt the shots fired through the fog and sensed their trajectories, tracing them back to their sources.  He used his arm to push another snake of fog forward.  It flew out of the fog screen and tackled one of the agents who had fired, hitting his gut like a rampaging boar.
    Aleksei noted how even with the helicopter producing a vortex, he was able to have his clouds punch through the wind and hit his mark accurately.
    Mashka waited for the right moment to move.  A part of the vent she was using as shelter, turned black.  Through it, The Czech’s hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into the darkness.  The feeling of being pulled through and coming out the other side, she would never forget.  It was as if she was riding a train through a tunnel, but she had felt the metal around and inside her.  When she emerged, The Czech held her arm behind her back and began guiding her to the helicopter.  She looked at Hamid’s lifeless body, rivulets of blood making lines across his face.  
    “You killed him!” She gasped in shock.  She had not seen where the first shot had hit.
    “Da,” he retorted, “You’ll get used to it soon enough.”
    Another stream struck from the fog.  The other agents dodged out of its way as it approached The Czech.  Like a hungry eel seeking prey, jerking and slithering, as if it found the path of least resistance though the air currents.  The man flung Mashka around to be a shield.  The stream abruptly stopped when Aleksei noticed he was holding Mashka.  It swirled angrily, but remained still, bent upwards like a cobra.
    “Get rid of the fog!”  The Czech yelled to the pilot.  The engine went into full gear lifting the helicopter from the ground, and tilting back to blow away the white blanket which covered half the roof.
    His cover was blown away, leaving Aleksei exposed.  Then he remembered what Hamid had said regarding the propellers.  Rolling on his back, keeping within the last remaining cover, he guided the fog in a large arch, following the cyclonic airflow created by the chopper.  The cloud reached the blades and Aleksei caused it to condense as quickly as possible.  Ice started to build up on the blades.  Within moments, the weight of the ice caused the propeller to slow and the aircraft fell three meters to the ground, lost balance, and tipped over.
    “You brat!” one of the agents yelled as he raised his gun.
    Mashka noticed him and when the Czech's grip loosened she tore away to charged, giving the agent a swift kick to the back.
    “Do not shoot at my brother!” she screamed in fury and pain, as her body went through its transformation.  Every muscle screamed as they were released from a vice-like restraint. 
    Another agent grabbed her from behind, putting her into a choke hold.  But his attempts were useless as she grabbed his arms and threw him over her.  He tumbled through the air until he smashed into one of the vents.
    The female agent, who had been guarding The Administrator when the chaos began, raised her weapon, but The Administrator called out, “Hold your fire!  We must not hurt the girl!” he ordered, “Use tranquilizers.”
    Mashka, in response, ran to the edge of the roof.  Turning her back to the edge, she screamed, “Get one step closer and I jump!”
    Everyone stared in stunned silence.  The cloudy sky broke, and for a moment, only the drumming of the raindrops brought life to the rooftop.
    When The Administrator had called for tranquilizers, Mashka realised that she was the main reason for this situation.  Therefore, she was her only bargaining piece.  Now, she was wondering what she would do next.  'What am I doing?  Jump?  Seriously Mashka?' She scolded herself.  Looking to both sides, she saw there were no ladders in her proximity, something she could have facilitated if she had thought ahead.  'What do I do now?'
    Aleksei shook his head, silently pleading for her not to do it.
    “Listen dear,” The Administrator said charmingly, “there’s no need to do this.  This is all a misunderstanding.  My men were just jumpy.  It’s not too late to just let this all go.”
    Aleksei stared, pleading at his sister.  'Our freedom is not worth this… it’s not worth loosing you.'
    Mashka felt the urge to follow the suggestion.  The Administrator could make himself seem so kind and benevolent.  But then she glanced aside and saw the stream of blood being washed away from the doctor’s body.  The Czech had pulled the gun on him so quickly, and gave no mercy.  She realised The Czech was exactly what she would be if she went with them.  It is indeed hopeless, she thought.
    She hugged herself tightly and leaned backwards.  Everyone else could only watch as she began to fall.  Aleksei saw Mashka close her eyes in surrender and disappear over the edge.

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Even though it's only October, I find myself looking back at the year and thinking about how much of an adventure it has been.  A game launched, a career secured, a webfiction serialised, and independence gained.  Now I just need to lose the stress weight.

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   “So we’re going to get out?!” Aleksei exclaimed happily.
   “Not exactly,” Doctor Hamid corrected.
   Aleksei’s hopeful expression vanished.
   Hamid elaborated, “You are to be flown to Kazakhstan for training.  It is true that you will have considerably more freedom than you do now.  The new location will be far better for your own personal safety as well, because it’s easier to keep track of who comes and goes, in a less crowded area.”
   “Training?  Why?” Mashka asked  “Chekhov had told me that it was for control of my ability.  But the fact is, most of what I’ve been learning is how to use it, not suppress it.  I just want to go back to living a normal life.”
   Hamid turned to Aleksei and exclaimed, “Of course Moscow beats St. Petersburg at hockey!”
   The siblings were perplexed as Hamid reached into his desk drawer.
   “Um, Hamid,” Aleksei spoke with concern for the man’s sanity, “That’s a little off topic, despite the fact that yes, I concede, Moscow is better.  Didn't we talk about that a while earlier?”
   “Yes we did,” he replied. “I recorded it so I could replay it on the security cameras now.  That way I could say that line, press this button in my desk, and the video feed would appear as if it was live.  Now we have a few moments to talk without prying eyes and listening ears.”
   “Why do you need to do that?” Mashka asked, suspiciously.  “Won’t the people watching the cameras notice the loop?”
   “No,” the doctor smiled as he replied, “the work shift has changed by now.  A new group is working in surveillance.  As for the reason, I need to tell you what’s really going on.”
   Aleksei’s heart skipped a beat, finally he would have some answers.
   “What do you mean?” Mashka asked.
   Hamid looked between them with a solemn expression.  He waited a moment then stated flatly, “The two of you are going to be trained as assassins.”
   “Excuse me?” came Mashka‘s incredulous reply.  “Assassins?”
   Aleksei remained silent, looking closely at Hamid.
   “Our organization pretends to be a medical research firm,” Hamid explained, “However, that’s simply a cover for our real business.  The Association is actually an organization of hired assassins, whose goal is to maintain the status quo in the geopolitical arena, while slowly shifting power back to the eastern hemisphere.  We help in both starting and ending wars.  And if you are taken to be trained, they’ll exploit your abilities for those purposes.”
   “You are speaking as if you are appalled.  Causes me to wonder why you joined this Association,” Aleksei said, giving him a critical glare, “I suggest you keep to the truth, Mashka can sense lies.”
   His sister nodded grimly.
   “Very well.  The fact is, I did not join The Association as you see it now.  About fourteen years ago, The Association that I began with, was part of a very small Soviet operation whose sole purpose was to track down and medicate Jinn, so they would not manifest.  This was called the Chrysalis Experiment.”
   “Wait,” Aleksei interrupted. “Please repeat what your job was about.”
   “Umm,” Hamid paused to recollect his statement, “you mean track down, and medicate?”
   “Yes,” Aleksei said, “That does not make any sense.  Why would you have to track us down if it was you who made us?”
   “Because we did not,” Hamid replied, “We have a lot of theories about why Jinn exist and how, but we did not create you.  The Jinn’s existence stretches far back into antiquity.  We have no claim to who you are.”
   Mashka shook slightly; a confused rage boiled within her.  She felt a strain in her fingertips and gums.  She calmed herself quickly, not wanting to mutate.  She seethed at being deceived, yet again.  But most of all, she was angry at being so simple-minded to be toyed with.  “How did you do it?  How did you make these abilities awake?” she asked, through gritted teeth.
   Hamid spoke softer, noticing Mashka’s distress, “We formed a drug to keep you in a constant middle state between a normal person and a Jinn, like how a chrysalis is the step between butterfly and caterpillar.  By doing this we were not inhibiting development, we were preserving it, so you could manifest at a later date.
   “We had successfully tracked down at least ninety-eight of the Jinn in the world.  The reason we did this was that if the Union ever had an absolute crisis, we could tap into this resource of great power.  We also recruited some Jinn for regular work.”
   Hamid‘s tone became very serious, “However there were many dangers to our operation.  We were not the only ones who were aware of the Jinn.  NATO also had a small group that knew of your kind, SICA, a secret objective of GLADIO.  They worked hard to hunt Jinn down and exterminate them, knowing that the they may be used as weapons against the West.  
   “Nevertheless, the Soviet Union collapsed before they could play the Jinn card, long before I joined The Association”  He looked between the two and asked, “Are you still following?”
   “Da!” Aleksei replied, excited about receiving some answers.  He glanced at Mashka to confirm that the doctor was speaking truthfully. 
   She nodded, her face unreadable.
   “Well,” Aleksei urged, “Keep going.”
   The doctor continued his narration, “Now, how we got to the way we are today?  Even after the major shifts in government systems, The Association continued to exist.  Though we were forgotten and neglected by the new regime, we were free from any oversight, and this allowed us to work in the shadows.  This freedom is what made us be able to track down almost all of the Jinn in a relatively short amount of time.  
   “But after that considerable feat, two years ago, a faction of The Association took over, led by the man you know as The Administrator.  He killed the majority of the former employees and has expanded The Association’s current payroll from only three hundred and fifty, to include over two thousand people.  They are now interested in manipulating the politics of the world independently, by using the mostly forgotten Jinn.”
   “Then why are they so desperate to have us?” Mashka asked, “There are ninety-six more.  What’s the big deal about us?”
   Hamid nodded, “Well, because of certain circumstances, there was a setback.  When the current Administrator took over, some brave souls, including myself, helped cover up and conceal information on the vast majority of the Jinn, thus destroying his database.  His catalogue fell to only a dozen people like you.  You two were some of the few unlucky ones he could track down.”
   The doctor’s mood became urgent, “Which is why we must escape today.  If you are taken to Kazakhstan, running away will be next to impossible.  There is nothing but open steppe for sixty miles around that station.  If we don’t succeed, you two will become members of his army.”
   Panic settled in Aleksei’s chest, they were trapped.  They would be taught to kill without mercy, and gain the eyes that too many of these people had.  Sad eyes behind grim exteriors, eyes that knew other lives were snuffed out by their hands.  Windows to hearts so hardened, that more deaths would never soften them.
   He stood up from his chair, “Well, what do I need to do?  How do we stop this!” he demanded.  “I don’t want to be killer!”
   “Calm down.  I have a strategy, but we need to execute it perfectly.”
   Mashka sat silent.  She bit her lower lip in nervousness but at last spoke,  “Aleksei, what’s to prove that we can trust this man?  The Association since we were brought here has been nothing but considerate, albeit awkward.  And now you want to risk everything, and possibly get someone hurt, just because of a hunch?”
   “Mashka,” Aleksei reasoned, “Doesn’t this all make perfect sense?  You should be able to tell if he was lying or not.  The Administrator said something about giving us a purpose.  Assassin is the only possible thing he could have in mind.  Furthermore, if The Association truly has good intentions, would they do us harm if we escaped?”
   Mashka was still unsure.  She had npt heard the doctor lie.  But she was not certain if her ability was fool proof.  One thing she was sure of, she had to stay with Aleksei.  She was not going to lose track of him again. 
   There was still one burning question though. “Where did they get the letter?” she asked, “If our mother was not involved in this, why is there a letter in her handwriting?”
   Hamid shook his head, “Do you still think that you’re the only Jinn?  We have at least two people on file who could copy handwriting perfectly as side effects of their talent.  The letter is a fake.  Your parents were in no way involved in The Association, nor do they know of the Jinn.”
   Aleksei was satisfied with the conclusion.  “Mashka, did that letter seem at all like what mom would have written?  She never lied to us, and was horrible at keeping secrets.”  
   “I suppose so.” she mumbled.
   Taking her admittance as consent, he asked Hamid, “What is the plan?”
   Hamid stared them both in the eyes.  “Listen, before we go on, I need to know, without a doubt, that you are willing to do this.  If you have any second thoughts, it will all fall apart.  My life is in your hands right now, depending on what choice you two make.”
   Mashka and Aleksei looked at each other.  After a moment of silent deliberation, Mashka spoke up, “We’ll do it.”
   Hamid nodded, and began dictating the plan, “In about fifteen minutes a helicopter will be landing on the roof.  It will take both of you, me, a pilot, and two guards.  That’s three on three.  But the pilot will be occupied, leaving only the two guards to watch over you.  I will be in the front seat with the pilot, who I can take out quickly enough.  You two will take advantage of the guards’ distraction to throw them from the copter.  Then I’ll do the same with the pilot, take the seat, and we fly off to freedom.  We can only fly a certain distance before they send pursuit.  Then it would be best to travel on the ground and force them to start all over.  I have a car parked and ready where we can land and drive away.”
   Aleksei nodded to the plan.  It seemed simplistic but solid, despite the obvious risks.
   “Could we not just play along?” Mashka asked hesitantly, “I mean, if we just go through the training we could simply disappear on the first mission.”
   Aleksei was inclined to agree with his sister’s suggestion, but something felt off.  He looked back at Hamid.
   “No,” Hamid replied, “I don’t think you understand what this ‘training’ involves.  It’s not like boot camp; it’s more about psychology than anything.  They will make you believe and follow them blindly.  If you don’t bend to their will, you’ll only break.  Just look to how your Czech friend turned out.”
   Mashka shrunk back into her seat.
   Aleksei noticed the pressure change in the air.  He smiled as he made his suggestion, “It’s raining, and if it comes to it, I can produce a fog screen to make shooting difficult.”
   “Nice thinking.  But if your water vapour came in contact with the propeller blades, it could freeze, building up weight and bringing the whole thing down.”  Hamid responded, “Nice idea, though.  If they have to refuel, the copter blades would not be spinning.   Then again, we run into the problem of having to delay long enough to let the copter start up.  It would be best to wait until we are on the vehicle starting to take off.  If anything goes wrong, I want you to bail.  This is where that plan will come in handy, Aleksei.  Make a fog screen and get to the closest escape ladder.
   “Now remember the plan.  As soon as I hit this button in the drawer the cameras will return to normal.  There’s no turning back, are you with me?”
   Mashka and Aleksei both nodded.  
   The intercom on the wall buzzed.  Hamid’s hand shot down into his desk and pressed the button to resume the live feed.  
   “Dr. Hamid," the voice from the wallmounted speaker chimed warmly. "it is time to bring Mashka and Aleksei to the roof.  The helicopter is here.”
   “Well, now or never.” Hamid said.

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   After lunch, Aleksei followed Hamid into a well lit room about the size of his classroom at school.  The walls and floor were covered in rubbery black padding, causing Aleksei to wonder how much tests would escalate.  In the middle of the room sat two, ten litre buckets of water, and off to the side were three, large targets.
   “What is this room for?”
   The doctor turned and answered, “This is where we test your ability.”
   “Uh huh,” Aleksei examined his bleak surroundings, understanding the purpose of the padding, “And what do you want me to do?”  He watched the doctor’s brown eyes intently as he waited for the reply.
   “First,” Hamid pointed to the two buckets, “evaporate the water.”
   Aleksei turned and walked between the two containers.  He was torn whether he should hold back, or do his best, as both options could be detrimental to his situation.  After a resigned sigh, he moved his hands up from his sides and mist started to roll out of the buckets and drift across the floor.  Then he moved one arm diagonally across his waist and laid his other arm across his chest, resting his hand on his neck.  This caused the fog to drift around his legs and up his body, like a giant boa where it quietly hissed, the vapour seeming ready to strike out.  He looked up at the doctor and asked, “What now?”
   Hamid felt a tingle of nervousness from the sudden change of the boy’s composure.  The Jinn before him now stood confident and menacing.  His eyes shone with bored malice, as though it was the doctor who was actually imprisoned. Shrugging off his apprehension, he explained, “See those targets?  Hit them with as much force as you can.”
   Aleksei nodded, and with casual grace twisted and stretched his arms towards the targets. The 'boa’s' head hissing towards the target.  Then he split the rest of its body in two and sent each cloud at the remaining targets, smacking against them, causing a forceful 'whump!' to echo through the room.  To finish he pulled the fog in and re-gathered it into its serpentine form.
   Dr. Hamid glanced at his tablet, examining the readings from the thermal cameras.  The fog had travelled at approximately sixty kilometres per hour and hit with considerable force, though it was a blunt strike.  He walked forward to the targets and Aleksei followed him with his eyes.  On close inspection he saw that the plastic foam had small, random cuts all over its surface.  The doctor theorised that this was probably caused by the rapid rotation of the vapour.
   “Interesting,” he said, “can you do anything else?  I have been told that you seem to be able to sense the presence of others.  How exactly do you do that?”
   Aleksei replied coldly, “I can tell when someone intrudes on the vapour."
   “I suppose that explains why you were so hard to apprehend.” Hamid replied.  “Is there anything else you are capable of?”
   Aleksei did not want to reveal much about his capabilities, but on the other hand, it might set up a situation for him to practice.
   “I could try to cut that target in half.” he suggested.
   Hamid raised an eyebrow, “Huh, give it a try.” he said, watching eagerly.
   Aleksei breathed deeply and cleared his mind.  He gathered the vapour into a narrow column.  Imagining the log he had split back at the farmhouse, he aimed for the top of the target and fired the missile forward, filling the room with a loud ‘hiss’.  He then compressed the missile into a narrow wedge and slammed it down diagonally as hard as he could, onto the target.  It sawed through the target twelve or thirteen centimetres, before dispersing.
   Dr. Hamid checked his tablet again, this time checking the electrodes' feedback from the target.  The contact speed this time was eighty kilometres per hour and the force was very similar to a hurled axe.  He glanced up at the disappointed Aleksei.
   The youth panted, “I could not split it.”
   “Alright, I think that’s enough in that area.  I am interested in seeing the range of your sensory talent.” Hamid said.
   “We can’t do it in here,” Aleksei answered, “this does not come close to my range.”
   “One moment then.” the doctor walked to a phone on the wall and dialled.  He spoke for a few moments then hung up.  “We’re going outside.” he declared.
   “Really?” Aleksei was stunned.  'They must be really confident in their security if they are willing to let me outdoors.  Of course, they probably have the right to be.' 
   “Also, The Administrator wants to meet you.” Hamid added.
   Aleksei released the fog and immediately his persona stiffened back to the nervous youth he had been before the test. “Fine,” he replied.
   Seeing this change, Hamid hypothesised that using the ability automatically stimulated part of the brain associated with an emotion or memory.  For Aleksei it seemed to be a sense of confidence, control, and superiority, the opposite of who he normally was.  There was also something much darker behind that countenance.  The doctor had observed similar personality shifts with other Jinn.  Hamid secretly envied them.  Being able to change personas at the drop of a coin seemed to be a power in itself; to change into someone else, even if for just a moment.
   After waiting for a test to be prepared, Aleksei let outside on the ground and breathed in the fresh air of the late winter morning.  The snow was almost completely gone from the ground and the south walls of buildings had greenery shooting up from the soil.  He eyed the grounds before him, half-heartedly calculating which direction would be best to bolt.
   However the doctor and two guards were more than enough of a reminder that he was a well-kept prisoner, despite how wide and free the sky seemed above him.  They now waited for Hamid's superior, of whom all Aleksei knew was that he was called ‘The Administrator’.  Finally the doors behind them opened and an older gentleman emerged with the creepy, bald Czech.
   Aleksei was not pleased with his audience, particularly The Czech; the two of them shared a momentary glare.
   “Dobrae utro, Aleksei is it?” the older man greeted him.
   “Da, Dobrae utro,” Aleksei replied, matching the polite tone of the Administrator.
   Dr. Hamid explained the situation, “Aleksei here is going to show us the range of his sensory capabilities.  Right now I have several staff hiding in the gardens.  Aleksei is going to pin point all of them and tell us where they are.”
   “Interesting,” The Administrator said, “I look forward to it.”
   Hamid nodded for Aleksei to begin.
   Aleksei knelt on one knee, put his palms together in front of his mouth and closed his eyes, as if in prayer.  Everyone looked closely and silence fell, leaving only the sound of chirping birds and distant traffic.  A few seconds longer and The Czech was about to lose his patience, when small wisps of vapour rose from the ground around the youth.  Keeping his hands together, he slowly folded his ring and pinkie fingers.  The wisps remained stationary for a moment, then dove through the lawn in all directions, like a web.  As they went, the streams split up into more wisps, gathering vapour and momentum.  Then the web vanished, though if they looked closely, they could see that a thin sheet of mist had covered the ground.  Then everything was still.  They all waited intently for what would happen next.
   Aleksei finally broke the silence as he announced the locations. “There are seven men and one woman, judging by shoe shape.  There are two at one o’clock, one at fifteen metres, the other at forty-five metres, and slightly to the left.  The woman is around the corner of the building at five o’clock about twelve metres.  There are men at three o’clock, nine o’clock, and eleven o’clock at distances of twenty six, seventy-one, and forty-two metres respectively.  The remaining two are at twelve and one o’clock, both approximately eighty metres distant, with a birdbath between them that currently has three or... four birds bathing in it.”
   As Aleksei was saying all this, Hamid and one of the guards had been radioing the staff as he called out the locations.
   “A perfect score, Gn. Sharov.” the doctor exclaimed.  “Now, I’m going to tell two of them to move, so I can time your reaction.”  He spoke into the radio, “number six, run.”
   Aleksei paused a moment then yelled, “Got him, he’s running left towards the bird house.”
   “Good job.  Now, number two, run.”
   “The woman moved six metres away.” Aleksei replied almost immediately, "Also, a man at three o'clock approached by one metre.
   Hamid nodded, looking at the stopwatch.  “Judging by your reaction times, it takes around one second, every twenty metres of distance between you and the target, for detection.  And you have a range of over eighty me--”
   “One hundred metres,” Aleksei corrected him. “I can also make it to about halfway across the street beyond the fence.”  'Closer to hundred and fifty metres, but I don't need them knowing that.'
   “Impressive,” The Administrator exclaimed pleasantly, as he placed his hands on Aleksei’s shoulders, causing the boy to unwittingly relax. “You’ve shown yourself very capable.  You even have perfect distance perception!”
   “Capable of exactly what?” Aleksei asked sharply, hoping to reveal their intentions, still trying to shake off the feelings of comfort the man gave off with just a single touch, and the tone of his voice.  His mind was screaming to him that this man was the enemy, but his body felt at ease, like he was visiting a long lost friend.
   The Administrator chuckled, “You remind me of a nephew of mine, always the impudent one.  I’ve decided I like you, Aleksei.  However,” he leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “not showing respect, where respect is due, is bound to get you in trouble.  Am I right?” he asked in a kind tone.
   “Humph,” Aleksei replied, “It seems to me, that being liked by you, has unusual repercussions.”
   The older man shrugged, “What can I say?  I like to get what I want, and I suppose that makes me a bit childish as well.” He chuckled.
   Aleksei bit on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything unwise.
   After a hushed conversation between the doctor and The Administrator, the party left, and with it the overwhelming feelings of goodwill.  Aleksei almost gasped, feeling like he had escaped from underneath a pile of blankets.  Hamid beckoned to follow him back into the building, and he was nudged on by the two guards.  He took one more deep breath of the crisp air before complying.
~~~~~~~~~~
   Chekhov, Anya, The Czech, and The Messenger gathered in The Administrator’s ornate office.
   The Administrator cleared his voice and then spoke, “It is about time to move the two subjects.  Our base in Kazakhstan is ready to receive them.  They’ll be trained rigorously for two months.  It’ll be challenging for both, Aleksei in particular, who will likely have considerable difficulty accessing water vapour in the arid environment.  However, I have a feeling he’ll do well.  Initially, the plan was to dispose of him, but he may prove to be valuable.”
   “What does this have to do with us?” The Czech asked.
   “I’ll second the big guy.  What’s the point?” Anya added.
   “Well, the two of you are going to be training them,” he smiled pleasantly as he spoke.
   “What?!” Anya screamed.  “You’re going to have me stand by and change diapers?!”
   “Anya, Anya, Anya,” The Administrator shook his head wearily then rubbed his beard.  “This is a great compliment to you.  Besides, I only want my best to teach them.  They are a valuable investment.”
   “Ha-ha,” she scoffed, “flattery will get you nowhere this time. Besides, what do they have to do?” Anya asked irately, pointing at Chekhov and The Messenger.
   The older man sighed heavily, “The Messenger will be the overseer of the training.  He’ll also provide,” he paused, “well, what he always provides,” he chuckled, then continued, “And Chekhov?  I’m keeping him in Moscow.  He has an upcoming assignment, following a possible lead in London.”
   Anya resigned herself reluctantly.  She flopped into her chair and fumed.
   The Administrator smiled warmly, “Now that this is all settled, the helicopter should be arriving for them on the roof at around three o’clock this afternoon.  Oh and Chekhov, a car will be picking you up shortly afterwards to take you to the airport.  Be ready and waiting.”  He finished with a brilliant white smile that forced everyone to consciously restrain from returning the expression.
~~~~~~~~~~
   Hamid sat, listening to the conversation through a pair of ear buds.  “That I will be,” he muttered in reply.
   He sat in his lab and had been listening to everything, via a bug he placed in the air vent, received through a re-purposed mp3 player.
   He opened a drawer revealing a gun he had smuggled.  “Seems it’s crunch time.” he said quietly, as he lifted the weapon.  “It is too bad, those two young people had to get all wrapped up in this.” He checked his ammo, nodding in approval. “Too bad indeed,” he mused, as he concealed the firearm under his coat.

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   Chekhov sat at a table with a steaming mug of coffee and an omelette with toast.  He was reading an old book, the cover title worn off by time and use.  As he took another sip, he noticed Mashka and Aleksei enter the cafeteria.
   'So, they finally captured him.'
   Aleksei caught his sister’s attention and nodded towards him.  Chekhov saw Mashka look up.  A nervous expression spread across her face.  She turned from him and sat at a table by the window, far away from where he sat.  Aleksei went to get food for the both of them, glancing warily at him.
   Chekhov returned to his book, and was nearing the end of the chapter when he heard a tray set down on his table.  He looked up and saw Anya sitting down in front of him.
   “Privet,” he mumbled.
   “Dobrae Utro,” she replied then continued, “So, what do you think of them?”
   He glanced over the rims of his reading glasses, “Am I supposed to think something of them?”
   “You did have the job of stalking her for a few days.  You must have at least something resembling an opinion.” she insisted.  
   “Razve?” he teased.
   “I would like to wring her neck,” she fumed, ignoring him.  “I know exactly what that girl is for.  She is going to be a younger, better version of me.  Worse yet, that ability of hers will allow her to surpass me in no time.  Now I know why I have been getting simple clean up jobs lately.  She is supposed to replace me.”
   “I assure you, Aho,” he reasoned, “you are more than capable of remaining useful to the administrator.  Be more confident."
   “I suppose so.” she conceded.  “But you know how I hate competition.  And that brother of hers, he is a type E ‘Jinn’ as Doc Hamid calls them.  E types are of limited use to us, unlike his type C sister.  I wonder how they’re going to successfully di-” she paused, remembering Mashka could have enhanced hearing, “dismiss him.” she corrected.
Giving up on finishing the chapter, Chekhov lowered his book and replied, “I don’t know about that.  The Czech is an E type, is he not?”
   “He is a CE type, there is a difference.  His ability is the definition of discrete.  An E type, on the other hand, makes a noticeable phenomenon when used.” she explained.
   “I think a little competition would be helpful for you.”
   Anya glared at him, but said nothing.
   Chekhov glanced over at the two siblings as they chatted.  He thought of when he was young, he had wished he was not an only child.  Maybe he would have turned out different.  He finished his lunch and parted ways with the irritated Anya.  There was a pain in his chest.  Was it remorse?  He did not know why these two affected him more than any of the others.  There was something about them that made it so he did not want to see them in harm’s way, despite what they were.
   Within the red painted walls of the restroom, Chekhov splashed his face with cold water.  He leaned over to let his face drip, clearing his mind of the day's thoughts.  After this simple ritual, he glanced up into the bathroom mirror and instead found he was in the middle of a rolling landscape of brown dull hills.  He spun around.  The building had faded away, leaving only grey skies.  He heard a feminine giggle from behind him.  There sitting in the midst of a knoll of heather was a young teen, clothed in a white dress, her blonde tresses waving in the breeze.  She was weaving together a chain of daisies which were growing in a perfect ring around her.  She put the finished tiara on her head and looked at him, as if she had just noticed his presence.
   “Well hello,” she greeted cheerfully.  “I’m lost.  Will you fly me home?”
   “Excuse me?” he asked, incredulous.  But he reined himself in.  As preposterous as the situation was, he decided to play along, assuming he would wake up in a few moments. “I think if anyone is lost, it is me.  And what do you mean by fly?”
   “I mean exactly what I said,” she replied curtly.  She skipped up to him and grabbed his hands.  When she looked back up to his face, her eyes had changed like Maryja’s, the brilliant lavender fading to a dull yellow and a narrow black slit down the middle of each eye.  “Fly for me, please.” she said through sharp canines.  “I’m lost.”
   Chekhov backed away in apprehension at the sudden change.  This was not a normal daydream.  “Who are you?!” Chekhov demanded.
   She put her forefinger to her mouth, and her eyes and teeth returned to normal, “Hmm, I wonder, what should I have as a name?” she considered a moment then replied, “I suppose since you already have The Messenger, The Czech, and The Administrator, going along that drab theme, I guess that makes me ‘The Apparition.’”
   He glared at her, “If this is some illusion, let me go.”
   “As I was saying,” she smiled, the eyes and teeth changing again, “I need your help.”
   “No, I can’t help you!  Good day.” he began to sprint down the hill, away from the strange girl.  Suddenly, his feet were trapped in place, his body frozen as a statue.
   She appeared in front of him.  “Please Iosef,” as she spoke, her face became that of a girl he had known, someone he had forced himself to forget.  The apparition’s voice even matched hers, “I need your help. You used to be willing to do anything for me.” 
   “Stop toying with me!” he yelled.  “Don’t use her face!”  He could feel his eyes watering, but he did not know where this sudden passion and the aching feeling in his chest had come from.  “I will do nothing for a creature like you.”
   Her entire demeanour changed.  “Iosif,” she said coldly, “I would give a word of caution to you.  There are many more powers at work in this world than just The Association.  The two you captured, they are mine!  I have my own plans for them...  and for you."
   His surroundings morphed again, as he was engulfed by a hollow void.  Then two glowing yellow eyes stared at him in the darkness.  He heard the girl’s voice whisper from behind them, “You will not tell anyone about our little chat.  If you do, I will place you in a nightmare you will never come out of.”  Despite the melodiously sweet voice, the threat held more pure malice than he had ever heard.
   His face was smacked to the side, and he was staring at the red wall of the bathroom again.  He looked back to see where the strike originated.
   “Dobro pazhalavat,” Anya said, lowering her hand and welcoming him back to reality.
He blinked a few times, catching up with his surroundings.  He rubbed his stinging cheek as he collected himself, and looked at the woman condescendingly, “You do realise that this is the men’s lavatory?  Not the best place to have a conversation.”
   “Tch, like I care.”  She rolled her eyes.
   Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the “Apparition” in the mirror shake her head disapprovingly at Anya.
   “Yoo-hoo!  You there?” Anya called, seeing his eyes change direction.
   “D-da!” he replied, quickly returning his attention to the present situation, “What is this all about anyway.”
   “I wanted to see you, of course.” she smiled innocently, “I have been worried.”
   “Nyet,” he said irritably, “what is the real reason?”
   “You take all fun out of life, Chekhov?” she sniffed.  “Alright I’ll get down to business.  The Administrator has plans to set us all up for a test mission with the latest subjects.  He wants you to be involved in the meeting.”
   “Lead the way,” he gestured to the door.
   Anya opened the door to see Dr. Hamid about to walk in.  Hamid had a look of surprise as Anya pushed past him.  He glanced in askance up to Chekhov, who merely shook his head in response.
   “Should I inquire?” The doctor asked.
   “I’d much rather you didn’t,” Chekhov replied.

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   Aleksei slowly opened his eyes and was greeted by black walls and a giant mirror.  A headache assaulted him as he rose from his bed.
   “You are experiencing the side effects of the suppressing agent.”
   Aleksei spun his head, immediately grabbing it in pain from the motion.  Blinded by vertigo, he asked through gritted teeth, “Who are you?”  He opened his eyes and looked at the tall, dark man clad in a white coat.
   “Not even a Dobrae utro?”  The man asked, seeming offended.  However he smiled and continued.  “Well, I’ll overlook the lack of etiquette.  I’m Dr. Hamid, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
   “Well, to be honest, I am not very pleased to see you.”  Aleksei replied matter-of-factly.  This man was one of his captors, and held all the cards, so it was not wise to be saucy, but it was difficult controlling his mouth with his throbbing head.  “Where is Mashka?” he demanded.
   “Well,” the man began, but he was cut off by the door slamming open and Mashka running in and embracing Aleksei.
   “I was so worried!  Where were you?” she interrogated him as she squeezed.
   The doctor gave Aleksei a shrug and a nod that seemed to say, 'Here she is.'
   “I, I don’t understand.” Aleksei stuttered, as he let go of his sister.  “What is going on?  We were hunted, shot at, and terrified.  I run into a guy who is just like us, and I would have beaten him too, had I not been interrup...” he paused, trying to recapture his train of thought.  Finding it, he continued.  “And after all that, here you are, fine and dandy in their base and concerned about how I am?  And furthermore, you seem happy that I have been captured!  Am I missing something?”
   Mashka replied, “I realise how crazy this seems, but well, we are not in danger.  They never meant this whole mess to happen.  Um, I think Hamid here would be better at explaining.”
Aleksei raised an eyebrow, 'Not ‘Dr. Hamid’?' he wondered.  'Pleasant terms.'
   “Da, Aleksei, I’m afraid my boss was a little hasty in procuring you.” the doctor responded.
   “A little?” He likes his understatements.
   The doctor continued, “It really was not supposed to happen that way.  The problem was that our western nemesis was closing in on you, though unbeknownst to us, they actually thought you were in Novgorod.  So it seems we jumped the gun.”
   “Alright, slow down,” Aleksei said, “who are these “we” you speak of?  Who is this nemesis?  Who is your boss?  What are we doing here?  And why am I on drugs!?!”
Hamid sighed, realising how unhelpful he was being.  “OK, let me try again.  We are a private research organization, involved in pharmaceuticals as a cover.  We really work protecting you, and people like you.
   “Now, our nemeses are organizations mostly located in the west.  They also know about you and others like you.  However they prefer to simply kill you rather than learn to understand you.”
   “There are others?  Like us?  How many?” Aleksei asked.
   “Yes, there are.  How many?  I don’t know.” Hamid replied.  “Now to address your last question, the drug is a suppressing agent.  It keeps you from using your ability effectively.  If you promise to not cause trouble, there’s no reason to continue to administer it.”
   “So, if I behave, I get to be a prisoner, just without the drugs.” Aleksei reiterated.
   “Well, yes, you both are technically prisoners, but only until we are able to make it safe.  I assure you, life can and will return to a normal.  This is the best place for you to be right now.”
   Aleksei sat silent for a moment, thinking over what he had been told.  Something did not feel right.  But his sister was right there, and she seemed to be fine.  He determined he was not going to get too comfortable, but he would cooperate until he learned their true motives.
   “Alright,” Aleksei said, “do you have a name for people like us?”
   “My superiors call you by many names.  Subjects or abnormals are the most common terms on missions.  However, when on base, we frequently use the shorter term that I coined, ‘Jinn’.” Hamid answered.
   “What’s a Jinn?” Mashka asked.
   “According to a story my grandmother told me, the Jinn or Djinn, were a people made by God from the ash of creation who held powers beyond that of the normal humans around them.  They could take many forms, but the shape of man was their most favoured appearance, as it allowed them to blend in.  The Jinn once lived in harmony with mankind, but over time they intermarried with humans and their blood was diluted and dispersed among the nations.  And those who were the Jinn were nearly forgotten by man.  Their numbers dwindled further because when a child was found to hold such powers, the people feared and frequently killed it.
   “Granted, this is all a story retold by a woman suffering dementia.  I think she was confusing the Arabic origins with some Russian fable about fairies.  But I felt Jinn was an easy name to remember and it expressed what you are very well; people with abnormal abilities.  Anyway, the term caught on around here.  If you do not like the word, I will not use it.”
   Mashka shrugged and replied, “Better than ‘abnormal.’”
   Aleksei nodded, “Yes, Jinn is fine, if you must use a term.  But remember we are people first.”
   “Very well,” Hamid nodded, “I will leave you two for a while to catch up.” He turned to Aleksei and continued, “Should you wish, we have a more comfortable room available near your sister’s.”
   “Spasibo,” Aleksei nodded.
   The doctor departed, leaving the two alone.
   “So,” Mashka said, “kak zhizn?”
   “Well,” Aleksei said hesitantly, “I am fine.  But I feel a little gypped considering how worried I was, and here you are, perfectly well.  It seems they have treated you well.”
   Mashka shrugged and replied, “Yes, they have.  There were some tests but I am mostly done with those.  I now know more about my ability and do not have to hide.  When we are released, we will have control of our... stuff.”
   Aleksei worked on absorbing what his sister was saying.  Thankfully, his headache was starting to wear off.  Then he remembered the one thing that had been worrying him the most. “That bald man, he has not gotten near you at all, has he?”
   Mashka shook her head and replied, “No, he has left me alone, but he still disturbs me.  I cannot hear him when he approaches and he only barely has a scent.  Thankfully he seems to be on a short leash.”
   Aleksei sighed, “Good, but does this mean my cat and mouse game was for nothing?”
“How could either of us known?” Mashka reassured, “They themselves admitted they did not make it look good.  Oh! I almost forgot,” Mashka rummaged in her pocket.  “This is a letter from our parents that I think you should read.”
   Aleksei unfolded the paper, his face excited, but sceptic.  When he was finished reading, he silently refolded the page.
   “What do you think of it?”  Mashka asked, looking at her brother’s face.
   “Seems a little convenient, does it not?” Aleksei answered.  “It is beyond logical thought, completely out of nowhere.”
   “It is the truth, Aleksei.” Mashka insisted.  “There is no other explanation for why we can do these bizarre things.”
   “Well I am not going to accept it so easily.” he replied resolutely.  “This cannot be from Mom; she always made a point of never lying to us, keeping something this big from us, all this time.  It just does not seem like mother.  Furthermore, them saying we are not related?  How can that be?  Vlad and I look just like dad, and you are a spitting image of mom.  They cannot expect us to believe that... we... are a lie.”  His eyes widened as the implications hit him.
   “You imply I accepted this easily?” Mashka scoffed.  “If that is too unbelievable, have you noticed that I can throw grown men like laundry, and you drip water from your fingers?  We would have laughed at both of those things had we been told them last week.  Does being made in a lab sound any more crazy?   I am simply trying to find some logic and truth in this situation.  Everyone is lying to us and you’re saying I don’t get it?” she was near tears as she paused to take a breath.
   “I did not mean it that way, sorry.” Aleksei apologised.
   Mashka sighed, “Well it’s not like we have other options.  Whether we believe it or not, these people at least act like they know what they’re doing.  And hopefully they will help us to discover what being one of these “Jinn” involves.”
   “What about Vladimir?  Is he still in Narva?”
   Mashka nodded.  “Da, and he is fine.  I asked this morning and Hamid said there are no threats to his safety, so they are not going to bother him.”
   Aleksei sighed in relief, glad that his brother was safe.  But still, something was fishy, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.  But he also wondered if his sister was right.  What did that make them?  Experiments?  Jinn?  Blessed?  Cursed?  And did they, in some way, owe their lives to their captors?

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