Chapter 68 Public Choice

Chapter 68 Public Choice
Kai West - POV
The bullet went wide.
Mitchell aimed at Ryan but Emma moved faster. Shoved him sideways. The round sparked off concrete where his head had been a second before.
"Stop!" Emma's voice cracked across the chamber. "Nobody shoots anyone."
Mitchell kept his weapon up. "He's carrying samples. He's dangerous."
"Then I'm dangerous too." Emma stepped between the gun and Ryan. "The bond connects us. You don't trust them, you can't trust me."
Through the connection I felt everything. Emma's emotions bleeding into all of us. Fear sharp as broken glass. Anger hot and spreading. And underneath, worse than everything else, doubt. Suspicion. Distrust seeping through the bond like poison.
My synesthesia painted it wrong. The bond usually glowed warm. Golden. Solid as sunlight. Now it looked sick. Colors I'd never seen before. Colors I didn't have names for. Fractured and breaking and wrong.
"Emma." I moved forward with my hands visible. Injured palm throbbing. "We didn't know. About our families. What they did. You have to believe us."
"Do I?" She turned and her eyes were different. Harder. "Your father signed authorization forms. For experiments. Torture. And you never noticed? Never asked questions?"
"I was a kid when it started." My voice came out defensive and I hated the sound of it. "They told me I was special. Enhanced. I just accepted it. Didn't think to question."
"How convenient." Blake's voice cut cold. Analytical. "We all just accepted enhanced abilities. Never wondered about the research. The infrastructure. The cost."
"You're turning on us now?" Cole asked. Pain bleeding through the words.
"I'm being honest for once." Blake looked at Emma. "Our families built this. We benefited. Whether we knew doesn't change that we're part of it."
"That's not fair." Ryan's clinical voice had lost its usual steadiness. "We can't be responsible for decisions made before we existed."
"Can't we?" Emma's grandmother moved forward. "You inherited wealth built on suffering. Power from torture. When does ignorance stop being an excuse?"
The bond kept fracturing. I watched it happen behind my eyes. Colors bleeding wrong. Breaking into pieces.
"Emma, please." I tried reaching through the connection. Sending feelings instead of words. Showing her truth. "You know us. Know we wouldn't hurt you."
"I thought I knew you." Her voice went small and broken. "But I didn't know your families murdered people. What else don't I know?"
My phone buzzed against my leg.
Wrong timing. Terrible, impossible timing.
I pulled it out. Incoming video call. My father's name on the screen.
"Don't answer that," Ryan said. "Not here."
But everyone was staring at me. Waiting. The chamber had gone dead silent.
"Answer it." Emma's voice held no emotion. "Let's hear what he says."
My hand shook badly. I accepted the call. Put it on speaker. Held the phone up.
My father's face appeared on the small screen. David West. Calm. Put together. Like always.
"Kai." His voice came through tinny but clear. "I've been monitoring. I see you reached the surface."
"You knew." Not a question. Couldn't be a question. "About Project Ascension. The experiments. You signed the forms."
"Yes." No hesitation. No shame in his voice. "The West family has supported enhanced research for three generations. It's our responsibility."
"Responsibility." The word tasted like acid. "You mean torture. Murder. Using people like they weren't human."
"I mean progress." My father's voice stayed maddeningly level. "Enhanced abilities require research. Understanding. The subjects contributed to evolution."
"They didn't volunteer." Emma moved into the camera's view. "You kidnapped them. Killed them."
"Ms. Stone." My father's expression didn't shift. "You're young. You don't understand scope. The lives saved through our research outweigh the subjects lost."
"Don't talk to her." Rage built hot in my chest. Made my vision blur. "Don't justify this."
"I'm not justifying. I'm explaining." My father looked straight at me through the screen. "The founding families made necessary choices. Difficult choices. We guided enhanced evolution instead of chaos. Millions benefit from our work."
"Work built on corpses." My voice shook. "On screaming. On people begging to die."
"On sacrifice." He corrected gently. "Every human advancement required sacrifice. Medicine. Technology. Progress. We sacrificed the few for the many."
"Did you ask them?" Emma's voice cut sharp. "Did you ask if they wanted to be sacrificed?"
"They couldn't understand the stakes." My father's tone stayed calm. Patient. Like he was explaining to children. "Someone had to make the hard choice."
"You mean someone had to play God." Blake moved into frame. "Decide who lives. Dies. Gets cut open."
"Mr. Rivers." My father nodded. "Your father made identical choices. As did Mr. Cross's father. Mr. Mason's grandfather. We understood necessity."
"You're murderers." Cole's voice went flat and cold.
"We're visionaries." My father didn't even flinch. "And you're heirs to that vision. Kai, come home. Now. The awakening is accelerating. We need all heirs present."
"To do what?" I asked. "More experiments? More kidnapping?"
"To guide it." His voice hardened fractionally. "Thousands of newly enhanced people need direction. The founding families have the only infrastructure that can provide it."
"Under your control." Emma was shaking. "Using them like you used the others."
"Helping them." My father corrected. "Kai, bring Ms. Stone. We'll protect her. Train her. In exchange she guides the awakening properly."
"No." The word came automatic. "Emma's not your property."
"I'm offering partnership." My father's expression stayed neutral. "But if she refuses, we take her anyway. The awakening is too important. Too dangerous. One person's idealism can't threaten global stability."
Through the bond I felt Emma's fear spike cold. She understood. The founding families wouldn't let her refuse. Wouldn't let her stay free.
"You're threatening her." My voice went cold. "Threatening to make her a subject."
"I'm stating reality." My father leaned forward slightly. "Emma Stone will work with us voluntarily or not. Either way she fulfills her purpose."
"Her purpose." I repeated the words. "Like she's a tool."
"She's an evolutionary catalyst." My father's voice stayed level. "Personal feelings are irrelevant compared to that."
I looked at Emma. Saw fear written across her face. Saw betrayal. Saw the bond between us dying in real time.
"Come home, Kai." My father's voice went harder. "That's an order. Bring Ms. Stone. We'll discuss this properly at home."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you're disowned." Simple. Clean. Direct. "Cut off financially. Academically. Socially. You lose everything the West family provides."
The threat hung in the air.
Everyone was watching me. Emma. Blake. Cole. Ryan. The prisoners. The soldiers. All waiting to see what I'd choose.
Family or Emma. Legacy or truth. Everything I'd built my life on or everything I was becoming.
My synesthesia painted the choice in impossible colors. Black for family. Gold for Emma. No middle ground existing.
"Kai." My father's voice went softer. Almost gentle. "Don't throw away your future for someone you barely know. Come home. We'll work this out together."
"Someone I barely know." I looked at Emma. At her fear and pain and desperate need to trust someone. "You're wrong. I know her better than I've known anyone. Through the bond. Through everything."
"The bond is artificial manipulation." My father dismissed it. "Not real connection."
"It's more real than anything you've felt." I held up the phone. Made sure he could see my face clearly. "You want me to choose? Fine. I'm choosing."
I looked at Emma. "I didn't know what my family did. Didn't know about the torture. The experiments. The bodies. But I know now. And I won't be part of it. Won't continue it. Won't let them touch you or anyone else."
"Kai, don't be foolish." My father's voice sharpened. "Think about what you're giving up."
"I'm giving up nothing worth keeping." Certainty settled heavy in my chest. "A legacy built on torture isn't worth inheriting."
"You'll regret this." My father's voice went cold and final. "When you're broke. Alone. Powerless. You'll remember this choice."
"Maybe." I looked at the phone. At my father's face. "But I won't regret staying decent. Staying someone Emma might trust."
"Last chance." His voice went flat. "Come home or you're disowned. Permanently."
"Then I'm disowned." I dropped the phone. Stomped on it hard. Ground it under my heel until the screen shattered. Until my father's face disappeared. Until plastic cracked and the call died.
The chamber went completely silent.
I looked at Emma. "I choose you. Us. Whatever we're building that's not torture and lies."
She stared at me. Emotions cycling across her face too fast to read. Hope. Fear. Doubt winning.
"That's very dramatic," she said finally. Her voice came out hollow. "But it doesn't change anything."
The words hit like a physical blow.
"What?" I couldn't have heard right.
"Your family tortured people." Her voice went cold. Hard as concrete. "Your father signed the forms. You benefited from everything. Destroying your phone doesn't undo that."
"I'm trying to make it right." Desperation made my voice crack. "Trying to choose differently."
"You can't make it right." Emma's eyes looked dead. Empty. "Those people are still dead. My grandmother was still tortured. Your choice now doesn't change their suffering then."
Through the bond I felt the others. Ryan's clinical assessment running calculations. Blake's cold agreement. Cole's hurt confusion.
"So what do you want?" I asked. "From us. What would make you trust us again?"
Emma looked at all four of us. Ryan with the sample case. Blake analyzing. Cole ready to fight. Me with my dramatic broken phone and empty gesture.
"I don't know if I can." Her voice cracked open. "The bond connects us. Makes us feel close. But it's built on torture. How do I trust something with that foundation?"
The bond kept breaking. I watched it through my synesthesia. Colors dying. Turning to ash.
"We're not our families," Ryan said quietly. "We're not responsible for their choices."
"Aren't you?" Emma looked at him. "You inherited everything they built. You are what they created. How do I separate you from them?"
No one had an answer.
The bond kept dying.
And I understood with sick certainty that destroying my phone hadn't been enough.
Nothing would ever be enough.