“Which is why you all have a strong telepathic bond.” Then I blinked as the rest of her words impacted. “Five weeks after the war?”
Jonas’s smile held very little in the way of humor. “You once asked why I hated déchet with such passion. It’s because I fought in that war. Because I witnessed the atrocities of your people.”
It certainly explained the rage I’d seen when he told me about the gas chambers in the old Broken Mountains military base. He’d been there. He’d watched those deaths. It wasn’t history and rumors to him, but something he’d actually survived.
Rhea help me . . .
I cleared my throat and said, “My people weren’t the only ones who committed atrocities, Jonas. And most déchet had no will; they were only doing what they were ordered to.”
He snorted. “Even the humans were n
ot so debase as to order some of the things your kind did—”
“I would not be so sure of that.” I hesitated, then added, “It was not my people who gassed yours in that base, remember. And it was a gas your people subsequently used, on us, and all of those who looked after us, even knowing what it did.”
“Because there was no surer way to wipe the stain of déchet from this world.”
“There were better drugs that could have been used,” I snapped. “There were children down there, for Rhea’s sake.”
“Something only those in charge knew. And it wasn’t as if the rangers had any say over how those bases—and everyone left within them—were dealt with.”
“But if you did, you still would have killed us.”
“Yes.” He met me glare for glare, his expression cold. “Just because I survived does not mean everyone I loved did.”
“Enough,” Nuri intervened. “The past is something we cannot change. We need to move forward.”
I snorted. “Has Branna moved forward? I’m gathering he’s another war and rift survivor.” He had to be, given the sheer depth of his hate.
“Yes,” Nuri said. “But he was caught in a completely different rift.”
I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the anger flitting through me. Anger wouldn’t help; in that, Nuri was right. “So if you’re all actually older than even I am, how is it you show no signs of aging?”
“The rifts stop the aging process. We can die, but we cannot and do not age.”
Which explained why Penny had often seemed so much older than she looked—she was, in real-life terms, as old as I was.
“And is that why you said you’re outcast? Because you’re rift survivors rather than simply Central’s unwanted like most who live here?”
Nuri nodded. “In the early years, when not much was understood about the rifts, it was erroneously believed that survivors had a connection to them and that having us in the city would somehow cause them to appear.”
“Which is wrong, of course,” Jonas said. “We are simply sensitive to their presence. We cannot draw or control them.”
“But a law was passed that forced survivors to places such as this,” Nuri continued, “and that law has never been repealed, even if we understand much more about the rifts these days.”
“So why were all those people who got involved with Winter Halo’s initial testing program living in Central?”
“Because most of them were undeclared rift survivors. As I said, the law is antiquated, and it is not often enforced.”
“Which is why you’re able to move around Central without reprisal?”
Jonas’s smile once again held little humor. “We may be outcast, but we are not without use. There are many operations that the government—for various reasons—does not wish to openly support.”
So I’d been right—they did have government connections, even if covert ones. “Well, I hope one of those black ops is not focused on either me or my bunker. And I would hope that none of you would take the job if it was offered.”
“I have promised on the goddess that I would not,” Nuri said. “You obviously know enough of witchcraft and magic to understand what would happen if I did, in any way, condone any action that would harm you.”
“That does not apply to Branna.”