"What is it?" Sinclair asks, his smile fading.

"I trust Jackson," Hank murmurs, still lost in his thoughts. "But I...do not think that the Community is done with him." He blinks and looks at his sovereigns, shaking his head with worry. "A boy like that - an incredible physical specimen? They will be angry to have lost him. I'm not a gambler, but if I were it'd be a pretty sure bet to say that they're going to try to get him back."

"Get him back," Ella says with a frown, "how would they do that?"

"I don't know," Hank says with a shrug. "Come and...snatch him, or something?"

Ella just laughs, shaking her head and glancing up at her mate, the only person who is a rival for Jackson in terms of sheer physical prowess. "Trust me, Hank," she says, dry, "no one is making Jackson do anything he doesn't want to do. Except maybe Ariel." "Or you," Sinclair murmurs, stroking a hand down the length of Ella's hair. "He's very devoted to you too, love."

Ella shrugs, not denying it but focusing on Hank.

"Either way," Hank says. "He is not... free of the Community by any means. I have long suspected that the Community has...unique and objectionable practices when it comes to children - it's good to have Jackson confirm that so we have grounds on which to make a move against them. Still..."

He hesitates and Sinclair raises his chin at his friend, urging him to continue.

"I would suspect," Hank says, feeling a little awkward about it, "that someone like Jackson has been...planned. That his height, his sheer physical prowess, his intelligence, and his abilities - his magic, if he has it is the result of generations of careful...breeding, for lack of a better word."

Ella stands straighter at this, a little horrified. "Breeding? Like...stock? Cows and horses?"

"Yes," Hank murmurs, his eyes going far-off again. "The Community obviously doesn't get new kids by a result of love matches, but instead likely through very careful planned pairings. It's a eugenic practice and completely objectionable but..." he sighs, looking back at Ella and Sinclair, "the Community is not going to be happy about losing its prime specimen. They won't let him go easily, whenever it is that they figure out he's defected."

Ella and Sinclair glance anxiously at each other. "It seems," Sinclair murmurs, "that the Community's one major mistake was sending a Cadet clever enough to figure out how much he'd been brainwashed his entire life in the three months before he joined the Academy. If they'd sent someone a bit dimmer...perhaps it would have worked."

"Dominic," Hank says, his eyes moving swiftly to Sinclair's, "we have no reason to think they didn't."

"What?" Ella gasps.

Hank shrugs. "If Jackson knew that another Cadet at the Academy was from the Community he would have told us, surely. But the Community is spread out on purpose - to prevent precisely the kinds of allegiances and affinities that Jackson was mentioning. Only those in the highest realms of power know how many people are there, and what they look like, and where they are. It's entirely possible that another - or several other - Cadets are here as Academy spies."

"God damn it," Sinclair murmurs, his mind moving quickly through the fairly lax admission standards they use for Candidates so that those from refugee or immigrant communities can enter even if they'd lost their birth certificates and other identification in their move. "If that's true," Ella says, speaking aloud the thoughts they're all thinking. "Then the Community might very well be getting the information that Jackson was sent to find."

"And if my theories of connections to Atalaxia are likewise true," Hank murmurs, "then that information might be going directly into Atalaxian hands."

"Shit..." Dominic says, hanging his head for a second before taking a deep breath and looking between his mate and his friend. "Looks like this is going to need a great deal more of our attention. We'll have to get Cora and Roger involved too - we can trust them and we need more hands.

"Oh," Hank says, a little sarcasm undertoning his words as he crosses his arms and looks between Ella and Sinclair. "What fun for me."

"Cora likes you," Ella says, grinning at Hank.

"It's not Cora I'm worried about," Hank murmurs, heaving another sigh.

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