Ben glanced at Sidney, then at the phoenix, and then back at Rebecca Morse. “That’s not acceptable.”
“I know.” She met his gaze steadily. “But there’s another option. A more dangerous one.”
Of course it was more dangerous. Voice even, he replied, “I’m listening.”
She set her tablet on top of her bag. “Rosenthal’s interest isn’t in the phoenix itself. It’s in the process of rebirth, the way phoenix fire can consume and remake matter. She believes that if she can understand the mechanism, she can weaponize it. She wants to create devices that can disintegrate anything, then reconstruct it according to different specifications.”
Ben stared at her, not sure he wanted to have heard any of this. “You’re talking about dimensional warfare.”
“Exactly,” Rebecca replied calmly. “If DAPI can control phoenix fire, they can potentially reshape matter at the molecular level. Destroy enemy installations and rebuild them as allied bases. Turn soldiers into something else entirely.” She paused there before adding, “It would be the ultimate weapon.”
“And you’re opposed to this?”
Not even a blink. “I became a federal agent to protect people, not to help the government weaponize things it doesn’t understand.” Her voice was hard as she continued. “What I saw in the surveillance footage, what Dr. Rosenthal wants to do with that information — it’s wrong.”
Ben studied her face, looking for any signs of deception he might be able to find there. The problem with people who were trained in interrogation was that they were also trained in how to lie convincingly. But Rebecca Morse’s electromagnetic signature — he could feel it now, could sense the subtle bioelectric patterns that accompanied genuine emotion — seemed sincere.
“What are you proposing?” he asked.
Without hesitation, she replied, “We let the rebirth happen. Here, in this facility, with Sidney guiding the process. If she can help the phoenix complete its cycle cleanly, without corruption, then the interference equipment becomes irrelevant. The phoenix will have already transformed.”
“And Rosenthal?”
“Will lose her primary experimental subject,” Rebecca replied calmly. “She’ll still have the surveillance data, but without an active phoenix to study, her research becomes theoretical. That will make it much harder to sell to the military.”
Ben looked down at Sidney again. Her face was pale except for the dried blood caked beneath her nose, and her breathing had gotten shallower. “That assumes Sidney can actually help the phoenix. She nearly died trying to cleanse five percent of the corruption. There’s much more than that left.”
“I know,” Rebecca said, still almost preternaturally calm. “Which is why we need time. And why we need you.”
“Me?” he asked, not sure what she meant.
She reached for her tablet and pulled up another graph. This one showed three waveforms instead of two — Sidney’s chaotic pattern, the phoenix’s steady pulse, and a third one Ben recognized as his own bioelectric signature.
“Your electromagnetic field stabilizes Sidney’s,” Rebecca explained. “When you’re close to her, her power becomes more focused, more controlled. That amplification effect I mentioned earlier? It doesn’t just make her stronger. It also makes her more efficient.”
The three waveforms on the screen moved in synchronization, creating a pattern that was more stable than any of them individually.
“So you’re saying I can help her control the cleansing process.” The logical part of his mind didn’t want to believe any of this, but it was hard to ignore what his own eyes were telling him.
“I’m saying you’re essential to it. Without you, she’ll burn herself out trying to purify the phoenix. With you, she has a chance.” Rebecca closed her tablet, adding, “But it will be dangerous…for both of you.”
Ben thought about all the insane things that had happened since he’d arrived in Silver Hollow — the appearance of the unicorn and the arrival of the phoenix, the way he and Sidney had worked together to save the town from shadow stalkers, and how her abilities seemed to have grown stronger when he was near.
How he’d started to feel her presence like another sense, as natural as sight or hearing.
Dr. Rosenthal had engineered their meeting. She’d manipulated events to bring them together. But what he and Sidney had built since then — the trust, the partnership, the connection that went deeper than either of them had expected — that was real.
That was theirs, and theirs alone.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked.
Something about the set of Rebecca Morse’s shoulders seemed to relax a little. “First, we wait for Sidney to wake up. She needs to understand what’s happening, what’s at stake. This has to be her choice.”
“And second?”
“We hope no one finds us before we’re ready.”
Ben looked at Sidney, still lying unconscious on the examination table. On the other side of the room, the phoenix was similarly immobile, its fire guttering lower with each passing minute. Then his gaze moved to the medical equipment and their jury-rigged sensors and everything they’d need if they were going to attempt something as insane as guiding a phoenix through its rebirth cycle.
