“I thought you said he wasn’t fully activated yet?”
Michael was incredulous, but Gaul’s nod was matter-of-fact and somber.
“It’s true, but that makes this all the more terrifying. This child,” he said, glancing meaningfully at the mess of tubes and IVs that occupied the room with them, “isn’t more than partially activated and he’s already the most powerful catalyst we’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t see what’s so remarkable,” Vladimir complained, stroking his trimmed white beard. “The Witches can accomplish the same things, with their circles, sharing power.”
“Operator Aoki has never previously used this particular barrier protocol in the field, and she didn’t have time to complete the download before she activated it. She maintained it,” Gaul explained, “for the better part of a minute, despite the Weir’s attacks, and as far as we can deduce, it was because she checked that boy to see if he was alive. Witches can transfer power, yes, but it takes a number of trained participants, and even then, the cumulative effect is modest. Brief contact with this boy appears to have temporarily increased Mitsuru Aoki’s abilities by a degree of magnitude.”
Gaul paused while the two men digested this, and then glanced at the boy, laboriously breathing in an induced coma.
“Even so…”
Vladimir’s voice was unsteadily. Gaul shook his head and cut him off.
“The boy hasn’t even had time to fully assimilate to the changes that have been made in him, Vlad,” Gaul said earnestly, “we are only seeing his potential. There is an excellent chance that this catalytic effect isn’t his primary ability — I honestly can’t see what this boy might become when he matures.”
Michael closed his eyes, and leaned over the boy’s bed, palms down. His arms crawled with black tattoo work, in a vaguely tribal style, but his skin was so dark you couldn’t even tell he had them at a distance.
“You’re right, Gaul,” he said softly a few moments later, his eyes closed. “This kid is only beginning to activate. Even so, he’s radiating raw power, and a substantial amount of it.”
Michael frowned.
“I can’t access it, though. It seems to be free-floating, but it isn’t responding to me…”
Vladimir closed his eyes, and muttered to himself briefly, then shook his head.
“It’s based on affinity.”
Michael lowered his hands and opened his eyes to look at Gaul.
“You think?”
“Yeah,” Gaul said reasonably. “Witches can’t even form a circle unless they have a very strong rapport — we aren’t talking about vampirism, here, it has to be a consensual process. The boy manufactures and multiplies power, gentlemen, but consciously or unconsciously, he’s exercising discretion about who can use it.”
Michael sat back down next to Gaul, his brow creased with worry.
“Gaul, what is Mitsuru’s current classification?”
Gaul did not need to reach for the slaved Etheric tendril that trailed invisibly behind him to access the information — he’d wondered the same thing earlier that morning.
“She was Class E, at her last evaluation, with upward potential.”
“Operating a partial protocol,” Michael said quietly, looking at his old friend with sad eyes, “would be an M-Class operation, assuming it’s even possible, correct?”
Gaul nodded his agreement.
“Are you saying,” Vladimir asked incredulously, looking over at the comatose boy, “that this child is already an M-Class Operator? Impossible!”
“No, you’re right Vlad, he isn’t an Operator at all — he’s just a boy who seems to be capable, without activation, of M-Class operations,” Gaul said gravely.
Vladimir leaned back in his chair and whistled.
“I would not think such a thing possible. That is bad…”
“I’m afraid it gets worse,” Gaul said, again pushing up his glasses, a tick that Michael knew grew more pronounced when he was stressed. “I’m afraid that this boy is anything but your average, ordinary child.”
“How so?”
“Alexander Warner,” Gaul said, nodding to indicate the boy. “His father was an abusive drunk — a number of domestic disturbance and family complaints on record, multiple DUIs, all resolved without jail time. Some bruises were noticed at school, when Alex was twelve, and there was a visit or two from Children’s Protective Services over the years. All to no avail. Alexander’s father met his end in a fire six years ago, a fire that also took the life of Alexander’s mother and sister.”
“So? That is bad, yes, but…”
“Alexander set the fire,” Gaul said softly, “or at least he believes he did — I lifted the impressions from him earlier, when I did a fairly deep scan. He spent a number of years in institutions, before being released into his grandmother’s care two years ago. She died, of natural causes, last August.”
Michael looked at the boy sympathetically, while Vladimir shook his head and muttered darkly.
“He has been on his own, when he wasn’t institutionalized. The community he returned to blamed and ostracized him, and he was small enough to be the target of violence and abuse in the juvenile facility. Alexander withdrew, almost completely — no real incidents, no run-ins with the law, nothing like that. But, when I probed him earlier, I didn’t find a single connection, not one person he has any serious emotional commitment to. He’s never had a friend, never so much as touched a girl’s hand. I’m not sure he’s even capable of forming bonds. or caring about other people, at this point. He’s damaged goods, gentlemen, and we’ve been down this road before.”
“Did he actually kill his family?”
Michael seemed curious, but not particularly troubled.
“You made it sound a bit doubtful.”
Gaul shrugged.
“I can’t be certain — the impressions are too vague. He thinks he did, and he thinks he’s glad he did. He remembers closing the front door behind him and walking away from a burning house. I’d say it’s fairly likely.” Gaul frowned and waved one hand dismissively. “Whatever the case, the reality of the trauma remains.”
“You believe that he is dangerous?” Vladimir demanded, pointing one blunt finger at Gaul accusatorily. “Many of us have come from unhappy places, Gaul, and we do not all become monsters.”
Gaul shrugged again, tiredly.
“I don’t know anything for certain,” Gaul admitted. “But, I do know that Alexander Warner has no idea how to care for, or to be cared for, by other people. At best he’s been ignored, at worst, he’s been brutalized. And, incidentally, he has enough power locked inside of him to decimate a third of our student body, even only partially activated. If we choose full activation, there’s no telling what will happen. It’s impossible to predict.”
Vladimir and Michael exchanged worried glances.
“I don’t think he’s dangerous, Vladimir.” Gaul leaned forward, his eyes cold and bloodshot pink. “I know it, even without a roomful of analysts. He’s a bomb waiting to go off, and that’s without considering the political ramifications.”
Michael spoke from behind his steepled hands; his voice was reflective, pensive.
“Any cartel that finds out about him, they’ll want — no, they’ll need to either recruit him or eliminate him, simply to keep anyone else from getting him. They won’t have a choice. His potential value is too great to overlook.” Michael shook his head sadly. “Gaul, how many students do we have right now with the potential to reach M-Class?”
There was a pause, and both Michael and Vladimir knew that Gaul, always exact, was consulting the Etheric network. He did not need to close his eyes; there was no obvious change in his body or demeanor. His gaze simply grew distant for a moment while he communed with the Etheric graft in his forebrain.
“Four,” Gaul said, his voice mechanical, his eyes unfocused. “Though there are perhaps another two or three who could reach that level, under optimum conditions.”