Return to Zero

by Pittacus Lore

  “Don’t think about it,” Isabela said firmly. “That man would have killed us all. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of your sympathy.”

  “That’s the thing,” Caleb replied. “I’m not—I don’t feel bad about it. I’m . . . I’m glad he’s dead. That’s what scares me. What if I turn into someone like . . . ?”

  “Hush,” Isabela said. “You’ll never be anything like Einar.”

  The pieces clicked for Ran. During the fight with Lucas back in Morocco, Einar had been left alone with Derek King and taken the opportunity to murder him. Caleb must have seen. It made sense now why Einar wasn’t at all concerned that King would report their actions or cut off their access to Blackstone’s server. He was out of the picture.

  Ran felt cold. They were all complicit in what Einar had done. They had listened to him, allowed him to go free, journeyed across the globe with him. Like Caleb, Ran didn’t know how to feel. Maybe the world was a better place without Derek King in it. Maybe it was now safer for their people. But what gave any of them the right to decide that? And weren’t they only driving the world closer to the war that Five cynically predicted?

  She cleared her throat and stepped into the doorway. Isabela and Caleb stopped talking immediately and looked up at her.

  “It’s time,” she said simply. “We’re meeting in the cockpit.”

  “Oh, good,” Isabela replied. “Get the almost-dying out of the way early today.”

  Ran allowed herself a tense smile, then turned to go. Behind her, she heard Isabela speak quietly to Caleb.

  “You know, it’s not too late to run away,” she said.

  “You don’t really mean that, do you?” Caleb responded.

  Isabela sighed. “No. I guess not.”

  Ran returned to the cockpit. As usual, Five hunched in the pilot’s seat and Einar sat beside him, glued to one of his tablets. Duanphen stood behind them, going through some stretches, albeit sluggishly.

  “I don’t like this plan,” Five was saying to Einar when Ran entered. “You’ll be too exposed. We can take a couple of days to scope out the situation and find a better way to get you in.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Einar replied dismissively. Five sat back sullenly, barely glancing up from his controls when Einar held up the tablet for him. “Look, your old friend is going to speak.”

  “He always loved speeches,” Five muttered.

  As Ran came nearer, she could see that Einar was watching an often-buffering live stream from a news network. A Mogadorian warship descended onto what looked like the California coast. She leaned over Einar’s shoulder to get a closer look.

  “What is happening?” Ran asked.

  “Madness, isn’t it?” Einar replied, looking up at her. “The last Mogadorian warship is surrendering itself. Apparently, John Smith organized this with some help from your friends at the Academy. John’s supposed to be giving a statement to the press soon about his thoughts on the changes to the Garde Accord. Smells like a PR stunt to me.”

  “Hopefully he’s better at talking than you,” Isabela said as she entered the cockpit, Caleb crowding in behind her.

  Ran could tell by the curdled look on Einar’s face that the remark stung. He’d never gotten over how much negative attention his grand speech in Switzerland had gotten.

  “Maybe that’s why Taylor and those guys haven’t been answering our calls,” Caleb mused. “Too busy with this.”

  The news feed cut away from the warship and the line of Mogs exiting its confines, switching to a crowded press area where John Smith was surrounded by soldiers and reporters. Considering they were on the run and had recently been shot at, it was odd to see how the soldiers reacted to John, practically knocking each other out of the way in their efforts to shake his hand and salute him.

  “I helped bring down the Mogadorians, too,” Five said quietly. “No one’s ever saluted me.”

  “One day, they’ll respect us like that,” Einar said, his voice almost wistful.

  “No,” Ran replied. “They will not.”

  She put a hand on Einar’s shoulder and squeezed until she could feel his bones beneath her fingers. Einar winced and looked at her sharply, his eyebrows raised. Five also noticed the tension and turn to appraise Ran. She kept her expression cold and neutral.

  “The humans know what John sacrificed during the invasion. They know that he fought alongside them,” Ran said, looking at Einar. “What have you done that is close to that?”

  “I’ve sacrificed,” Einar said. “I—”

  “You have done nothing but hurt people,” Ran continued over him. “Perhaps you had a troubled upbringing. Perhaps the Foundation brainwashed you. Perhaps now you think you are defending the Garde. All of these are excuses that you use to justify the destruction you cause.”

  Einar glared at her. “Where is this coming from, all of a sudden?”

  “When we are done in Mexico, I will be leaving this group. You are sick,” she said, glancing over at Caleb and Isabela. “And you are making us sick with you.”

  Einar at last pulled away from Ran’s grip and stood up so that he was in her face. He let the tablet go and Five caught it. The Loric seemed more interested in the broadcast than coming between Ran and Einar. Caleb, Isabela and Duanphen all stood by in silence, too. Perhaps this wasn’t the most appropriate time for this confrontation, what with all of them about to stage a raid on a top secret prison, but Ran needed to get this off her chest.

  “I don’t need you,” Einar said to Ran. “All you Academy brats have been nothing but trouble since the day you begged to join us. I’ll be glad not to have to babysit you. None of you have the stomach to do what really needs to be done.”

  “Neither do you,” Ran said.

  Einar scoffed. “Please, I—”

  “If you truly wanted to unite the Garde and keep them safe from humanity, then you would turn yourself in and pay for what you’ve done,” Ran said. “But you are a coward. So, instead, you want to turn us all into monsters like you.”

  The tiny hairs on Ran’s arms stood up. Einar’s teeth were clenched, like he was making a concerted effort not to attack her, and still she felt his telekinesis radiating off him. She sensed that he wanted to tear her apart. Caleb and Duanphen both edged forward. Isabela watched with narrowed eyes. And Five . . .

  “Oh,” Five said. “Oh, fuck.”

  That gave Ran pause. She’d heard Five curse plenty of times, but she’d never heard his voice sound so small, like a little boy.

  He held up the tablet where John Smith’s speech to the press had begun, turning up the volume. Immediately, Ran could tell there was something off with the way he spoke.

  “I know there’s been some people out there saying how they don’t like the changes to the Garde Accord and they don’t think Inhibitors are the way to go,” John said, speaking into a dozen microphones. “But I think it’s a great idea.”

  Ran’s eyes narrowed. On-screen, John smiled crookedly.

  “God willing,” he said, “I’ll have an Inhibitor in my head by the end of today.”

  That wasn’t right. Ran didn’t know John that well, but she knew he would never—

  The Foundation pulled Lucas out of Morocco because of a high-priority target.

  All those soldiers shaking John’s hand.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” John said, all good manners. “There’s a whole rebellious Academy that I’ve got to get under control. Including some folks who are right here under our noses.”

  John leaped into the air and took flight. It was a rocky maneuver, not a smooth takeoff, and he nearly knocked over a cameraman on his way up.

  “That was him,” Isabela said, her voice shaky. “Lucas. He . . . he . . .”

  “He has John,” Five said. “He’s unstoppable.”

  Ran remembered Patience Creek. It was a Mogadorian that time, some woman with a weapon that let her siphon off part of John’s power. She’d barely survived that.

  Lucas was going
to the Academy. He claimed, as John, that he was going to get them under control. But Ran had seen Lucas’s brutality, his apathy towards human life. He wouldn’t stop at chipping her former classmates. He would kill.

  She made eye contact with Einar, the two of them still standing uncomfortably close together. Ran took a step back. Einar nodded. For now, the two of them agreed to put their differences aside.

  “Five,” Einar said, trying to find some of his usual pompous confidence and struggling. “Speed up. We’ve got a prison to attack.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  TAYLOR COOK

  NEW LORIEN—THE HIMALAYAS, INDIA

  IT WAS EARLY THAT MORNING, WHEN THEY WERE all still in relatively good spirits. When they thought they could win. Before everything went to hell.

  “Everybody got a hold on me?” Nine asked.

  Four hands squeezed Nine affirmatively. His bicep, his shoulders, his back. He gave a little shimmy in response.

  “I like this,” he said. “It’s relaxing.”

  Taylor sighed and pinched Nine’s arm. He seemed to be in a better mood this morning than he’d been in recent days. Maybe he was feeling that same weird giddiness that came over Taylor sometimes when she faced impossible odds. Even so, he needed to stop screwing around.

  “Hurry up,” she told him. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Nine replied. “Okay, I’ve never actually tried this thing out before, so if we teleport directly into a volcano—my bad.”

  “Oi,” Nigel groused. “You’re scaring Simon with that talk.”

  “Actually not,” Simon countered. “It’s highly unlikely there would be a Loralite stone inside an acti— Ulp!”

  Nine reached up and squeezed the Loralite pendant that hung around his neck. There was a flash of azure light and that head-over-heels sensation that was disorienting enough to cut off Simon. One moment, the five of them were huddled together in Professor Nine’s office and the next they were halfway across the world.

  The first thing that Taylor noticed was the cold. It was different than the damp chill of Northern California; brisker and biting. She dropped her hand off Nine’s arm so that she could hug herself, rubbing her upper arms.

  “I did not dress warmly enough,” Rabiya said with a commiserating glance at Taylor.

  Nine spread out his arms. “Well, here it is. The nicest cave we’ll ever live in.”

  They stood in the back of a domed cavern where a large outcropping of Loralite jutted out from the floor. The stone walls were a polished blue-gray that reflected the shimmering Loralite; Taylor got the sense that the walls had been recently scrubbed or scraped. At the center of the cavern was a round wooden table, big enough to comfortably seat at least twenty people, a Loric symbol that matched Nine’s pendant burned into its center. Sunlight poured in through the cave’s entrance along with a small flurry of snow.

  A girl sat on the edge of the table, facing away from them, a sketchpad in her lap. When Nine made his declaration, she turned to face them, her eyes alight. She had auburn hair streaked with white that hung loose to her shoulders. She wore a full-length winter coat with fur trim, unzipped, a T-shirt depicting a cartoon Vishnu beneath. It became clear when she hopped off the table that, although she wasn’t more than fourteen or fifteen, the girl was tall and gangly, all elbows and knees like she’d just endured a growth spurt.

  “Oh, wow, hi, Nine,” the girl said, trying to mask her obvious excitement with a bit of blasé chill.

  “Ella?” Nine exclaimed, practically screaming, no chill at all. “Holy shit! Is that you?”

  And then they were hugging, the girl’s—Ella’s—arms around Nine’s neck, him picking her up so that her long legs kicked at the air, both of them laughing.

  “One of the OGs,” Nigel explained to the blank expressions of the Academy students. “Number Ten, I think? Maybe? Telepathic and clairvoyant. I think she died once.”

  “Interesting,” Simon said. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looked around, taking care to memorize every detail of the cavern.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Nine said, holding Ella at arm’s length. “Damn. What are they feeding you up here? You’re so tall.”

  “Stop,” Ella said, pulling her coat around her and shying away. “I hate this height. Every day I think about using my Aeternus to change back.”

  “Nah,” Nine said with a dismissive wave. “It looks good on you.”

  Nine tossed the compliment out there casually; he was already walking by Ella to get a better look at the cave. Taylor could tell the girl was practically swooning, though, like Nine had just made her life. Nine was, of course, as oblivious as always, and he hadn’t even introduced them. Taylor took it upon herself to stick out her hand in Ella’s direction.

  “Hey there,” she said. “I’m Taylor. We’re from the Academy.”

  Ella shook her hand and Taylor quickly introduced her to the others. The Loric girl gazed at each of them in turn, studying them, a flicker of bright blue in her eyes that wasn’t the reflection of the Loralite.

  “It’s good to meet you all in person,” Ella said. “John said we might have some guests soon. I hope you like the place.”

  “Bit nippy for my taste,” Nigel said.

  “You get used to it,” Ella replied.

  “Himalayas,” Nigel said wonderingly. “They got rock clubs up here?”

  Ella chuckled. “No. Not really.”

  Nine had made his way over to the table, where he picked up Ella’s sketchbook. The drawing was of them—well, not them exactly—but five shapes silhouetted in the glow of the Loralite stone. She was a pretty good artist.

  “You knew we were coming,” Nine said.

  Ella shrugged shyly. “I had an inkling.”

  “You doing that a lot?” Nine asked. “Looking into the future?”

  Ella pulled a strand of hair across her eyes. “Not really. Knowing the future changes the future. It’s too messy. I try not to peek.”

  “So you don’t have any idea how we do today,” Taylor said. “If we win.”

  Ella shook her head. “If I told you that you were going to be victorious, then you might get cocky and not do the things that made you win in the first place. And if I told you that you were going to lose—”

  “We might all go jump off the mountain,” Nigel interrupted. “Got it.”

  “I do know your plan, though,” Ella said, smiling at her in a way Taylor found a little creepy. “Seems pretty solid to me. Not that you asked. But since you’re worried.”

  “You know what we’re planning,” Taylor repeated, not quite believing.

  “You’re planning to use Loralite to teleport squads of students around campus. Play cat-and-mouse with the Peacekeepers until you wear them out.” She pointed at Rabiya. “That means relying on her a lot. You don’t entirely trust her because she used to be with the Foundation.”

  Taylor glanced at Rabiya. She was about to say something to the contrary but knew that would be patronizing. Rabiya regarded her coolly and said nothing.

  “You can trust her, though,” Ella continued. “At least as far as this battle goes.” Speaking quickly, Ella turned to Simon. “You’re here because you can transfer knowledge. Cool Legacy, by the way.”

  Simon half bowed. “Thank you. It doesn’t get enough respect.”

  “You’re going to transfer your knowledge of this place into some stones so that Garde can teleport here from any of the Loralite you’ve placed around campus. Just in case you need to retreat. It’s smart. Might save some lives.” Finally, Ella turned to Nigel. “And you’re just here because you don’t have anything better to do until the fighting kicks off.”

  Nigel smirked. “Actually, I was supposed to be cleaning the toilets, but seems like a waste of time when we might be high-tailing it later today.”

  Nine clapped his hands. “Oh man, Ella, I missed this! It’s like a magic show.”

  Taylor pretended not to
be disturbed by the ease with which Ella laid out her thoughts. Apparently, the telepathic weren’t much for boundaries. “I don’t know if it’s even worth saying this next part,” Taylor began.

  “Go for it,” Ella said. “Talking is fun.”

  “We were hoping to get a look around, since there’s a fifty-fifty chance we might be living here,” Taylor said.

  “It’s more than just this cave, right?” Nigel asked. “We’ve got a lot of people . . .”

  “Let me give you the tour,” Ella replied, looping her arm through Taylor’s and pulling her towards the exit. “John’s been a little weird about this place since his vision. Been insisting that we get the force field set up before allowing anyone to come here. But, well, I’m pretty proud of what we’ve built and I think we should show it off.”

  “Wait a second,” Nine said, catching up with them. “He didn’t mention any vision to us.”

  “I tell him to keep his head in the present, but he doesn’t listen,” Ella said. “I guess he saw some kind of explosion here. Like we were being bombed or something. And that’s why he’s so bent on the force field.”

  Taylor and Nine exchanged a look. This was supposed to be their safe place to retreat to; at least, that’s what John had promised them. Now, suddenly, there was talk about explosions and bombings.

  “Oi, so we’re going from an Academy under siege to the next Hiroshima?” Nigel asked, putting Taylor’s anxiety into words. “That what I’m hearing?”

  Ella sighed. “John could’ve seen one of like a million possible futures. It doesn’t mean anything. Besides, who would want to bomb us? We’re not hurting anybody.”

  Taylor frowned at that. Despite being a little weird and invasive, Ella seemed like a sweet girl. She’d also spent the last couple of years living in John Smith’s mountain utopia. She didn’t know what the real world was like anymore.

  “What does Marina think of all this?” Nine asked. “Is she around?”

  Ella’s lips pursed and her eyes darted to the side. Taylor didn’t need to be telepathic to pick up that signal; the girl had some bad news.