by R F Hurteau
“About time you woke up,” he said. “I could use a bit of help here.”
Eli looked to Mabel, who urged him forward with a gesture of her hands. He stood beside Linus and, with a great heave, the machine began to come away. It groaned as it broke free of the bolts holding it to the wall, and both of them leapt backward to avoid the slow-moving sludge as it tipped out onto the floor.
“Mabel,” Eli said, grasping his sister by the shoulders, “what were you thinking? What have you done?”
“They’re going to have to start over,” she said, her voice betraying a hint of pride. “They’re going to have to think twice about doing this to anyone else, ever again.”
Eli shook his head.
“The machines are nothing to them, Mabel. The computer programs, the software—with that, they can start again no problem.”
Linus crossed his arms and shrugged, side-stepping away from the black puddle that was making its way toward him.
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“We’ve erased everything,” Mabel told him excitedly. “We captured the head technician and made him do it. We watched.”
Eli felt his eyes widen in surprise.
“How’d you convince him to do that?”
Linus grinned. “Took him to the fire chamber room. Told him if he didn’t help, I’d stuff him in and start pressing buttons. Turns out, he wasn’t much of a hero. Definitely didn’t think it was worth dying for.”
But Eli found it hard to share their enthusiasm at the chaos they’d caused.
“And you think that guy is the only smart one here? You think you can outwit all of Cedar Grove’s greatest minds with a little trick like locking the doors? It’s just a matter of time before they regain access, Mabel. And then what?”
Her golden eyes flashed in defiance, and she raised her chin higher.
“They won’t harm us,” she said confidently. “We’re all that’s left of their work.”
“They won’t kill us, maybe,” Eli agreed. “But they’re more than willing to harm us. They’ve proven that every day here.”
But Mabel was unconvinced.
“We had to do something, Eli. This was the only idea we had. And everyone agreed to it. Everyone wanted to help. Even Shane.”
“Well, I didn’t agree to it.” Eli’s mind raced as he paced back and forth. “What are we going to do now?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “What are we going to do...there’s no getting out of this now. But there has to be a way.”
An explosion rocked them, causing Mabel to fall back against Linus. He landed on his backside in the slick black film that had by now covered half the room.
“What was that?” Mabel asked, no longer sounding confident, but instead frightened. She barely seemed to notice the muck around her as she clambered to her feet, dripping with the slimy concoction.
“What is this?” Linus held up his blackened hands to stare at them in disgust. “It’s vile.”
Eli was at the door, watching the hall.
“Try bathing in it.”
Everything had gone quiet.
“I’m going to see what happened.”
Mabel squeezed his arm, smearing black goo across his sleeve. “Be careful.”
Eli took off down the hall at a jog, instinctually keeping to the side and as quiet as possible, even though there was nowhere to hide.
He peered around the corner that would lead him back to the dormitories and saw a billowing cloud of smoke rolling lazily along the ceiling.
Below it, walking casually down the corridor, was The Mask.
Eli stepped out into the open.
“What’s happened to my friends?” he called out, sounding bolder than he felt.
The Mask didn’t answer. He stood still, staring at Eli.
“It worked,” The Mask whispered, his voice full of awe.
He approached slowly and Eli stood his ground. The Mask reached out and, to Eli’s further confusion, traced a finger along his ear.
“At last,” The Mask continued. “At long last. I am no longer alone.”
Eli had no patience for flowery, enigmatic conversation with this madman just now.
“What’s happened to my friends? Are they alright?”
The Mask nodded, his hand no longer touching Eli, but still outstretched, as if forgotten.
“They’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. “Minor injuries. None will be harmed, I have instructed my men to treat them with dignity and respect.”
Eli could not stop a bark of skeptical laughter from escaping his lips.
“Is that what you call what we’ve been forced to endure here? Dignity? Respect?”
The Mask turned left and right and sighed.
“Eli, what have you done to my beautiful facility?”
“We’ve destroyed it,” Eli told him, glaring in defiance. “And good luck starting over.”
“Starting...over. Yes. That will take some doing, won’t it?” The Mask was nodding thoughtfully. “But the die has been cast. It has begun. There’s no stopping it now, no matter how much havoc you wreak upon the tools we use to get there. This is only one of many such facilities, Eli. Did you truly believe that I would put all of my hope, all of my dreams, into a single effort? When all of Values International is at my disposal? If so, you were mistaken. You and your friends have stopped nothing, accomplished nothing, with this petty act of vengeance.”
Eli’s heart sank.
He did not trust The Mask, how could he? Yet the words had an air of truth to them. He did not feel as if this man were trying to deceive or mock him.
He seemed to simply be stating a fact.
Mabel’s scream rang out behind them, tearing down the hallway like a specter and chilling Eli to the bone.
The Mask snapped up, looking past him.
“Where is your sister?” he demanded, even as Eli had begun running back in the direction of the black sludge room.
There was a second scream, and then Linus called out, “Eli! Help!”
Eli skidded to a halt in the doorway where Linus was cradling Mabel in his arms. Her eyes rolled wildly and her body thrashed as she let out another blood curdling wail.
“I don’t know what happened,” Linus said, his eyes wide and desperate. “She just...collapsed.”
The Mask pushed Eli aside.
“She’s not far enough in the transformation process to come in contact with this solution,” he told Eli quickly, scooping the writhing form of Mabel out of Linus’ arms as effortlessly as though she were made of air. “We need to decontaminate her, now. It may already be irreversible.”
“Everything is destroyed.” Eli was panicking, unable to look away from Mabel’s convulsing form. “There’s nowhere—”
“Downstairs,” The Mask commanded, and then they were flying down the hallway, The Mask keeping several steps ahead. The nearest stairwell exit was still locked.
“Eli!” The Mask barked.
Eli stepped in front of him, slamming into the door with such force that the single blow forced it open, the base of the door bent so that it screeched as it dragged across the floor.
The Mask rushed down the stairs, Eli and Linus close on his heels.
Eli found himself unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to see beyond the writhing form of Mabel in the arms of a mad stranger just ahead of him.
They reached a glass enclosure and The Mask handed Mabel, who had at this point gone limp, to Linus.
“Quickly, now. Inside.”
Eli moved along the side of the enclosure, finding a panel full of buttons and levers. He tried to make sense of the words, but his mind was frozen.
The Mask, however, had no such difficulty. He worked the controls with a calm decisiveness that made Eli angry. His sister’s life was at stake, yet the man showed no sign of nervousness or worry.
There was a loud hissing sound as the chamber began to fill with a thick haze. Nozzles on the ceiling began spraying some
sort of yellow foam, and a temperature gauge on the control panel began ticking upward.
“Is that normal?” Linus called out, “It’s getting pretty hot in here.”
Eli’s eyes wandered to the controls, but The Mask raised a hand.
“Leave it,” he commanded.
An eternity passed between the time Linus stepped into the enclosure with Mabel and the time that the haze began to dissipate. It was so thick that Eli could not see what was happening inside.
He stood, pressing his hands against the hot, clear glass door, waiting...all he could do was wait.
The form of the two people inside slowly appeared, and The Mask released the door lock.
Eli pulled it open, reaching out and taking his sister gently in his arms. Her form was limp, but she was still alive. Linus was gasping in quick, panting breaths.
The Mask looked Mabel over with a quick, expert touch, looking at her pupils, her hands, feeling her pulse. At last he let out a deep sigh.
“It’s too late.” he said, his voice flat and heavy. “I’m afraid she isn’t going to make it.”
Eli shook his head. “No,” he said stubbornly. “You’re wrong.”
“These experiments...” The Mask explained, “they are exceedingly delicate. They cause disruptions and changes on a cellular level, they manipulate...DNA.”
He pointed to Mabel’s hands, taking one in his own and turning the palm up. They were clean, but Eli could see deep scratches there, inflicted during the chaos upstairs.
“Linus was ready for the next stage. His brief exposure was easily mitigated. Your sister, on the other hand...perhaps if it had only touched her...but those wounds gave it a clear path to her bloodstream. She is being changed from the inside out in a way her body cannot sustain. Eli, Mabel is dying.”
Eli moved away, stepping into the nearest room and placing his sister on an empty cot.
Mabel opened her eyes and hope flooded Eli. But they weren’t as brilliant gold as he remembered them to be. They seemed dull, faded.
“Eli,” she whispered, “I just wanted to...protect you.”
Eli nodded, forcing back tears and biting the inside of his lip until he tasted blood.
“I know,” he managed.
“Don’t cry,” she told him weakly. “If you cry, I’ll cry.”
“I’m not.”
Mabel smiled, but it was faint. A shadow of her familiar, exuberant one.
“Yes, you are.” Her frown came next, just as feeble. “I feel...strange.”
With some difficulty, she reached down into her pocket, carefully drawing something out.
“It’s not finished.” She took a deep breath that seemed to cause her a great deal of discomfort. Her face twisted into a grimace.
“Don’t talk so much,” Eli chastised. “You need to rest.”
“I will rest...soon.”
She held the little square up, just a few inches above the cot.
Eli took it. It was small, the fabrics subtly different shades of white, strips interwoven into a delicate, simple pattern.
“A strand from each of our tunics,” she said. “To bind us all together. I was weaving it for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, so I was going to...to add yours last.” She sighed. “You’re going to have to add your own, now, I suppose.”
Eli’s tears streamed down his face, cresting on the tip of his nose and falling hard and fast onto Mabel’s chest as it rose and fell with every increasingly labored breath.
“I don’t know anything about weaving,” he said. “I’d rather you finish it.”
Mabel offered another, smaller, smile. “I don’t think that I can,” she said. “I’m...too sleepy.”
Mabel’s eyes closed. Her breathing slowed.
And then, just like that, she was gone.
“Someone’s coming!” Linus shouted from the hall.
Eli ignored him. He stared down at Mabel, waiting for her chest to rise again.
She could not be gone, not really.
“Eli?”
He picked up Mabel’s limp hand in his own. So warm, still.
The sounds of boots approaching grew louder, and Eli knew he needed to go. It was the right thing to do, help his friends. Mabel had taught him that.
She’d taught him everything.
Eli stepped out of the room in time to see Miles and company burst through the nearest door.
Eli charged at him. He felt hollow, as if everything good in him had perished with Mabel. He didn’t want to go on living if she could not. She had always been the better person, always been a light for those in darkness.
A world without his sister was a world he wanted no part in.
He leapt at Miles, a guttural snarl on his lips as he watched the recruit’s eyes widen, saw the barrel of his rifle rising up as if in slow motion.
“No!”
The Mask appeared out of nowhere, shoving Eli aside as a crack like thunder echoed through the room.
An instant later the decontamination enclosure exploded, and Eli hit the ground hard as the tinkling glass hit the floor like a million tiny raindrops.
The Mask had Miles by the throat, high in the air. His rifle lay on the ground, his men watching the scene unfold in stunned silence.
“You and your contingent will leave,” The Mask said, his words heavy. “You will join the transport team, return to Next Level, and resign. Immediately.”
He threw Miles down and the boy scrambled backward on all fours, gasping.
“But, but I—”
“Go!”
Miles did not argue further. He flipped over, pulling himself to his feet, and shoved past his men, who followed without a second glance.
The three who remained stood in silence for a long moment.
“An interesting sensation,” The Mask said, reaching up to touch his shoulder, “dying.” His hand came away red.
Linus moved toward him to look closer and then scowled.
“You aren’t dying,” Linus growled. “It went straight through.”
Eli was not paying attention. He had turned back toward the still form of Mabel.
She looked smaller in death. So fragile, though she’d been the furthest thing from fragile in life. She’d been strong. Stronger than he was, that much was certain. Where he had looked inward for strength, she had gathered it from all around her.
The Mask came up behind him without a sound.
“You should return to your ward, now.”
Eli shook his head furiously. “I won’t leave her,” he announced, louder than necessary.
“You are not abandoning her here, Eli. She is already gone.”
The Mask let this sink in for a moment before adding, “You and your companions in Ward Three will not be punished for this insurrection. I think this loss will be punishment enough. But you will return to your dormitory. You will stay there until instructed. I will send word to have you brought down when Mabel is laid to rest.”
Eli looked at Linus, who shrugged. His expression was sympathetic, and tired.
“Come on,” his friend said. “I don’t think we have much of a choice.”
Eli hesitated. “What about Shane?” he asked, knowing that Mabel would have wanted him to ask.
“That is a Next Level matter. His punishment is out of my hands.”
Eli’s hands balled into fists at his sides, and his words were defiant.
“You said you run Values International. Next Level belongs to you, doesn’t it? Prove it. Make sure Shane isn’t sent back with Miles and the rest of the Next Level contingent. Reassign him here, make him a janitor, I don’t care. Just don’t let them do to him what was done to us.”
The Mask turned toward Eli, presumably studying him. “You are bold, I’ll give you that. To make such outlandish requests after having a hand in the destruction of my facility is quite audacious. However,” he said, turning away again. “I have learned that often, grave error is the necessary precursor to wisdom. Very well. I will see
what can be done about Mr. Stokes. Now go.”
Eli moved mechanically to the dorm, following Linus without thought.
An eerie silence had taken over the ward as the Cedar Grove security personnel worked to subdue the last of the rebellious subjects.
The dorm was a mess, but Eli’s bed had escaped the brief uprising unscathed.
He sat, and Linus stood watching him. All of the inhabitants of Room 12 stood watching him. Battered and bruised and exhausted, they seemed to be looking for guidance.
He didn’t care. Eli ignored them, grasping the hem of his filthy sleeve. Tearing it, he rolled the resulting strip of fabric into a rope. He studied the square for a few quiet minutes, and then began his attempt to attach his strand to the others. Mabel’s knots were small and neat, whereas his were large and unwieldy.
He still had a lot to learn.
“What are we going to do now?” Linus asked at last, sounding uncertain and afraid.
Eli did not look up from his work. He felt no need to do anything except focus on this one small task. Mabel had wanted him to finish it, and he would.
And then he would honor her other wishes. No matter how hard it was, Eli would make sure her light did not vanish from the world. He was determined to keep his oath. The experiments would continue despite Mabel’s efforts, and he refused to believe she had died in vain.
He would take care of the others. He would teach them to rely on each other, to protect each other.
He had failed Mabel, but he would not fail her memory.
“I’m going to finish what she started.”
Eli tied another knot.
Fourteen
Confluence
THE acceleration of the ship was nothing like Gavin had ever experienced. It made the unregulated Floater look like a carnival ride for children.
They were all buckled in their seats as they made their escape, the Weaver sitting to his right and a bulkhead to his left.
“We aren’t out of the woods yet.”
The voice came from a speaker on the ceiling, presumably the pilot’s.
“It’s unlikely we’ll be pursued, but I’d still like to get as far from here as possible. Please remain in your seats until we reach speed and altitude.”
