Darkness Girl: Trickster God

Chapter Sixteen: Bright Lights

'It was so simple, yet so impossible.' Trevellian shook his head. 

Regan held on to the sides of the chair, keeping herself perfectly balanced.

'I guess you just didn't have what it took to follow your dream of chopping bits out of people and attaching them to other people. Maybe you should look for a new hobby.' 

Trevellian sighed. 'As always, you have the subtlety of a sledgehammer. We found the problem in the end: it was in the mind. Even with the physical structures transplanted into their bodies, our subjects didn't have the neural pathways they needed to control their crafts. Just because you give me wings doesn't mean I have the brain structures to say "flap".' 

Trevellian rubbed his eyes. 

'Of course, once we found the problem it just made a solution seem more impossible. The brain is infinitely complex. To find the exact structures to control each individual craft would take a thousand researchers a thousand lifetimes. It was only luck really that it was about that time I met Jordan.' 

'Lucky for you. Probably not for her.' 

'She's an adult,' said Trevellian irritably. 'She can make her own decisions.' 

'All actions have consequences,' said Regan gravely. 

Trevellian laughed in spite of himself. 'I've always rather thought that attitude was severely lacking in ambition.' 

'I wonder how your psychic is going to feel when she stops being useful and the consequences come for her.' 

Trevellian shrugged. 'I don't see that happening. Jordan was like an angel, descending from heaven with the solution to all of our problems. I was the first one to recognise her potential through. With her ability to sense the electrical impulses in people's brains, she could function as a living link to the structures that let people control their crafts. It took careful training and some specialised equipment, but eventually Jordan learned to map out the neural networks that allowed people to control their crafts.' 

'I'm starting to regret not killing her more and more.' 

'If you had, I would have cut your throat,' said Trevellian seriously. 

'For love?' Regan gave him a mocking smile. 

'Because I'm a sore loser. Infiltrators learn to find out what people secretly need and give it to them. Jordan's need was obvious: she was lonely. However, exploiting that took a lot of careful planning.' 

'Your pathetic attempt to cover your weakness for her is laughable.' 

'I suppose I have a soft spot for lonely people too,' Trevellian admitted. 'Infiltrators get to know people, but they never really connect with them.' 

'I find my first meeting with people is usually the last.' 

'Your conversation skills reflect that. Luckily, that's not why we brought you here.' 

'You're such a charmer.' 

'Like I said, I'm not here to make friends with you, but I thought if I explained the process, you might realise that it's not so bad. Just let Jordan map out your craft, and you can walk away to continue your life of ruthless murder, such as it is.' 

'You're good at lies. They roll so easily off your tongue, I'm surprised it's not forked.' 

'You still think I'm lying.' 

'I think you're so wrapped up in lies that if I peeled them all away you'd disappear into a little pile of scraps.' 

Trevellian ran a hand through his hair. 'I know you think you're some sort of hard case, but this shouldn't be that difficult for you to understand. If you keep holding out, I'm going to let Pyotr back in here to finish what he started. You think he was brutal before? That was just a prelude. He's going to break your fingers and shatter your knees. He might even take one of your eyes for good measure. Even if you survive, you'll never use a sword again.'