by S. Harrison
“Required for what?” asks Bit.
“I’m not sure, but they did mention something called Project Infinity. Do you know what that is? Was there anything about it in any of the files you accessed?”
Bit shakes her head. “No, I didn’t see anything about that. But if it’s named after you, I’m not surprised they need you to be a part of it.”
“I know, it’s super creepy, but there’s more. They were talking about you, too.”
Bit’s eyes narrow. “Me? Why?”
“They need you to fix Onix, not so we can escape, but so they can use him to initiate Project Infinity. The man said that if the outside world found out about it, they’d try to shut it down, so I’m assuming whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
Bit frowns. “So do I fix the mainframe or not?”
“I guess you have to, if we want to get out of here alive.”
“We need to find out more about Project Infinity,” says Bit. “After I repair the computer you need to buy me some time to delve deeper into the classified files. Maybe I can find out what we’re dealing with.”
“OK, when the time comes, I’ll make sure Dr. Pierce is suitably . . . distracted.”
“How?”
“Oh I don’t know,” I reply with a sly grin. “I was thinking a swift kick to the head might do the trick.”
Bit smiles, and in the corner of the room, the whirring printer stops with a little ping sound. Bit starts to stand up, but I grab her by the arm and pull her back onto the seat. “There’s more. Dr. Pierce and that man mentioned someone else.”
“Who was it?” asks Bit.
“I’m not sure what it means, and I didn’t hear a name, but they said something about how they had information about a certain member of your family?”
Bit goes so still I could swear that time has stopped.
I reach into my back pocket, pull out the photograph of the young woman, and slide it onto the table. “Is this who they were talking about? I found it in the bunk room.” Bit’s eyes dart in the direction of the picture and her gaze lingers on it as she nods sadly.
“What did they say about her?” Bit whispers gravely.
“That you’ve been looking for her.”
“They must have seen the files I was trying to access. I didn’t cover my tracks properly. I’m so stupid,” Bit says. Her voice is shaky, fearful.
“It’s weird,” I say, taking another long look at the girl in the photo. “She looks so familiar. What’s this all about?”
Bit looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “Please don’t hate me.”
“Why would I hate you?” I ask, frowning with confusion.
“Because I’ve been lying to you,” Bit says, and her already tortured expression darkens even more.
“About what?” She shakes her head, and her lip trembles. I gently put my hand on her arm. “Bit, you’re my best friend, you can trust me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Bit avoids my eyes and looks at the picture instead. “The girl in the photograph is my half sister,” she whispers sadly. “I only found out about her a year ago when I was snooping through my mother’s computer. It took months of searching in a lot of different places, but I finally dug up everything about her that I could find. It’s pretty messed up, Finn.”
“What is?” I ask, suddenly intrigued.
Bit takes a deep breath and lets out a huge sigh. “My mom got pregnant in high school and put my sister up for adoption. Years later my mother had become a successful businesswoman and respected public figure. A scandal would never do, so she deleted every record of the adoption and paid the father to keep his mouth shut, but she should’ve known better. Nothing ever gets deleted, not really. Anyway, my sister obviously had talents of her own, because she tracked my mom down. My mother threatened her with lawyers, but my sister didn’t want to hurt my mother; she wanted to make her proud. She got a job working for Blackstone Technologies and . . .” Bit lets out another long sigh. “. . . she stole research from them. The tech my mother’s company developed from that research made my mom a billionaire.”
Bit looks so ashamed. She drags her arm away from my hand and stares at the photograph. “That’s why I didn’t tell you about any of this. I’m sorry I kept all this from you, Finn, but I hope you can try to understand the reasons why I did, and I hope you can forgive me.”
“Whoa,” I say, staring at Bit in disbelief. “So that’s why you hacked into this place? That’s why we’re all here?”
Bit nods. “My sister went missing nine years ago, and that’s where the trail went cold. When I confronted my mom about all of this, she denied everything. She even denied that my sister ever existed. But that was just another lie. Someone at Blackstone Technologies must have found out who my sister was and what she was doing and had her . . . killed. I was sure the proof I needed was somewhere inside the main computer, but it was impossible to hack from the outside. But then a month ago, that night in our dorm room, suddenly I had all those passwords, and I finally had the access I needed. I knew this was my only chance to infiltrate the facility and find proof of my sister’s death.”
I lean back against the table and try to take this all in.
“I’m sorry I kept this from you, but I couldn’t take the chance that you might reveal my plans to your father.” Bit slides the picture closer to her and studies it wistfully. “Most of all I’m sorry I came here. I didn’t mean for so many people to die. But I thought I was doing the right thing. All I wanted was some justice for my sister.” Bit holds the photo up and stares at it. “If she was alive, she would’ve turned thirty-five this year,” she says, turning the picture toward me. “I look a lot like her, don’t you think?”
Still a little stunned at Bit’s revelations, I look over at the picture. It’s true; it’s easy to tell that they’re related. Their features are very similar, and as I noticed before when I found it in the bunk room, they even have almost exactly the same big brown . . . eyes. Her eyes!
All of a sudden a face, her sister’s face, is revealed in my mind, like the fog has been whisked away. I can see her standing by my bed in her crisp black-and-white maid’s uniform, her hair pulled back tightly in a bun, smiling down at me with a gentle sadness in her eyes. She leans down and tucks the covers up under my chin, just like she has done so many nights before. She kisses me on the forehead and whispers, “Goodnight, Miss Blackstone.” Bit jumps in her seat beside me as I gasp her name out loud, “Mariele!”
Bit’s eyes widen. “That’s right . . . ,” she murmurs as she stares at me bewilderedly. “My sister’s adopted name was Mariele Sanders, but . . . I thought you said they didn’t mention it?”
“They didn’t,” I whisper.
“Then I . . . I don’t understand,” Bit says, and I grab her arm as my heart pounds in my chest.
“I knew her. She worked as a maid in my house when I was a little girl. I didn’t remember until right now, but . . . I knew your sister!”
Bit looks understandably stunned. She grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly. “Really?” she says as her eyes begin glistening with tears.
I nod emphatically. “But that’s not all, Bit. The way Dr. Pierce and that man were talking about her was—”
“What?” Bit blurts out.
I look her right in the eyes. “Your sister. I think she might be . . . alive.”
CHAPTER SIX
Bit’s face goes completely blank.
I don’t know what she’s feeling right now, but she’s turned so pale she looks like she’s seen a ghost, which, in a way, is exactly what her long-lost sister must have been to her, right up until this very moment.
“What do you mean . . . she’s alive?” Bit mumbles.
“They said that by the time you find her it will be too late. I don’t think they’d say something like that if she was already dead, do you?”
“I don’t know,” Bit says, looking more and more bewildered with every passing second. “Did they say where she
might be?”
I shake my head.
“Hello?” says a muted voice from the other side of the door, and both of us freeze.
It’s Dr. Pierce.
The wheel in the center revolves, and he pushes against the door, but it jars against the bolt. “Why is this door locked?” he asks.
“Just a minute!” I yell. Bit looks catatonic. “Hey,” I whisper, and her eyes twitch toward me. “I care about my father and his company about as much as he cares about me, which is not at all. I get why you lied, and if your sister is alive and being held captive somewhere, we’re gonna find out where she is, and we’re gonna go get her . . . together. OK?”
“I . . . I never imagined that Mariele might still be . . . alive,” stammers Bit.
“What are you two doing in there?” shouts Dr. Pierce.
“We’re just talking . . . about girl stuff!” I shout back, cringing at my lame excuse.
“Well, make it snappy! It’s almost time to leave!”
“OK. We’ll be right there!” I yell, and I can hear him muttering to himself as he walks off down the corridor. I turn back to Bit. “C’mon,” I whisper as I stand and pull her up by her wrist. “If we’re gonna save your sister, we have to make sure that we save ourselves first.”
I stride across the room, slide the latch, wind the wheel, and swing the heavy door open. Bit crosses the room and follows me into the corridor, but she’s looking at the floor and shuffling like a zombie. “My sister is alive,” she murmurs.
I swing around and hiss at her to be quiet. “Shhhh.” I walk over and grab her by the shoulders. “For her sake, for all our sakes, you need to pull yourself together,” I whisper sternly. She looks up at me, takes a deep breath, and nods. I give her an encouraging smile, put my arm around her, and we both head down the passage into the main room together.
Dr. Pierce and the others are gathered around the collection of trolleys. “It’s about time,” he says over his shoulder. He does a double take at Bit. “What’s wrong with you, girly?” he asks. “You didn’t open one of those old cans of tuna fish in the bottom cupboard, did you?”
“No, she’s fine,” I say as I guide her across the room. “She just had a last-minute attack of nerves, that’s all.”
Dr. Pierce picks up the slate that Bit was using from on top of the trolley and thrusts it into her hands. “We need you, girly,” he says gravely. “This may sound harsh, and if it does, I apologize in advance, but we don’t have time for anyone to get cold feet right now.” He glances at his watch. “It’s almost been twenty minutes since Major Brogan and the others left, so I’m expecting them to make contact any second now.”
“I’m good,” Bit says unconvincingly.
Brody walks over with our schoolbags in his hands. He passes mine to me and offers the other one to Bit. “We’ve got four walkie-talkies left. Dr. Pierce and Margaux have one each, and I put the other two in your bags. There’s also flashlights and a can of spray bandages in both of them. Finn? Do you want the binoculars? They don’t fit in here,” he says as he takes them from the top of his bulging bag and holds them out to me.
“Um, sure, thanks, Brody.” I stuff them into my satchel, sling it over my head, and adjust the strap across my chest. “What on earth have you got in there?” I ask, pointing to the overstuffed satchel hanging at his side.
“Oh,” he says with a goofy smile. “Pretty much one of everything that was left. Rope, matches, foil blankets, a coil of fishing line . . . I’ve even got a couple of flares in here if you want one?”
“No, it’s OK,” I say with a bemused smile. Bit, on the other hand, is still obviously very shaken, and it shows.
Brody looks at her with an expression of concern. “Everything is gonna be OK. I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he says warmly.
Bit smiles. “I made you a cupcake, but I left it in the printer,” she says meekly.
Brody chuckles. “When we get out of here, cupcakes are on me.”
“What I wouldn’t give for some food that isn’t made from printer slime,” sighs Margaux.
“You can keep your cupcakes,” says Brent. “Cheeseburgers, fries, and double-chocolate thick shakes all around after this. I’d even eat the ones they make in the school cafeteria.”
Bit grins. “Don’t you think you’re risking your life enough already?”
Everyone laughs nervously, but as all of our eyes meet, the smiles slowly fade, and we stand there, looking at each other in silence. Everyone’s face has turned stony serious, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has a bundle of nervous energy clawing at my stomach. Brent looks especially on edge. Knowing that you have to do something that you’re dreading is bad enough, but the waiting before it happens is excruciating.
I’m almost relieved when there’s a short burst of muted static and Jonah’s muffled voice issues from inside three of our satchels. “Hello, are you reading me?”
I reach into my bag, pull my walkie-talkie out, and jab my thumb into the “Talk” button. “We can hear you, Jonah,” I reply.
“Finn, is Dr. Pierce there?”
Dr. Pierce glares down at the unresponsive walkie-talkie in his hand, and I watch him with justified suspicion as he twists the channel knob on top three clicks to the left. “Blasted thing was on the wrong frequency,” he mutters as he presses the button on the side. “Graham here, Major.”
“We’re almost at the exit point,” says Jonah. “Make your way to the first hatch, and contact me when you get there.”
“Will do,” replies Dr. Pierce. “We’re on our way.”
Dr. Pierce slides his radio into one of his lab coat pockets and strides across the room. Bit and I share one last look of nervous determination and fall in behind him. Brent and Margaux follow suit, and we all walk in silence into the corridor on the other side of the lab. The passageway is short and dim and ends in a landing with a rickety-looking metal cage elevator. Dr. Pierce slides the door open, steps inside, and positions himself beside a control panel that has three large buttons set in a vertical line. None of us says a thing as we all shuffle in around him. Brody rattles the door closed. Dr. Pierce presses the middle button, and a motor whirs into life somewhere above us as the elevator jolts and begins to rise. There is no eye contact and no smiles or words, only the quiet sound of anxious breathing under the mechanized hum of the motor and the metallic twangs of the cable echoing through the dank and musty air.
It isn’t long before the elevator shudders to a halt and Dr. Pierce slides the door open. He steps out, and we follow as he leads the way along a narrow metal lattice gangway and up a flight of stairs. Margaux is ahead of me, and in the dim yellow light I can see her hand trembling at her side. Half hunched over in a low-ceilinged tunnel, we carry on in single-file silence until eventually we arrive at the opening of a large copper-colored metal pipe. It’s angled diagonally upward, with handholds cut into the sides. Dark-brown streaks of dried blood are smeared down the length of the lower curve, and I remember . . . it’s mine. I know that I was badly hurt when everyone carried me down here, but seeing the sheer amount of blood I left behind makes me a little queasy to say the least. Even with my rapid-healing ability, it’s no wonder that everyone was so surprised I survived.
Dr. Pierce crouches down beside the mouth of the pipe. He retrieves his walkie-talkie from the deep pocket of his lab coat and squeezes the “Talk” switch. “We’re in position, Major.”
“Copy that,” replies Jonah. “Bettina? Are you there?”
Bit quickly fishes her walkie-talkie from her satchel. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Even though you’ll be monitoring the R.A.M.s’ positions, I’m not willing to leave anything to chance,” says Jonah. “Jennifer will stay at the open hatch at our end to alert you when she has direct visual contact with all three of the mechanoids. When she has them in sight, they should be far enough away from your exit point to give you time to reach the entrance to the reservoir.”
Even though
Jonah obviously can’t see her, Bit nods at the radio in her hand. “OK, we’ll wait for her signal.”
“Good. I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it,” says Jonah. “Move fast, keep your wits about you, and you’ll all be fine.”
“Do your best, everyone!” Percy shouts in the background.
“Alright. Let’s get this show on the road. We’re exiting the hatch now,” says Jonah, and with a short burst of static, our walkie-talkies go quiet.
Bit tucks hers away, pulls the slate from her satchel, and switches it on. A small version of the holographic schematic of the facility glimmers into view, and we all crouch around it to get a better look.
“How long do you think it will take for the R.A.M.s to take the bait?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” replies Bit. “As soon as Jonah and the others exit that hatch they should trip the motion sensors. I can’t imagine it will take any longer than a few minutes before—”
“Look!” blurts Brody. “One of those dots is flashing.”
“Already?” exclaims Dr. Pierce.
I study the hologram, and sure enough the first in a line of ten small orange circles on the map is flickering sporadically. One of the slates Percy and the Professor set along the tunnel is registering movement, but as suddenly as the small amber light came on, it goes out again.
“The R.A.M.s must be on the move,” says Bit.
“I don’t feel any vibrations,” Margaux whispers as she looks around the walls. “I don’t hear anything, either.”
“That is weird. We should be able to hear them,” Bit says as she takes a moment to listen. The tunnel is silent.
“Well, something is moving up there,” I murmur.
“And it’s moving fast,” barks Dr. Pierce as the second circle in the line lights up.
“Too fast,” Bit whispers ominously. She looks up at me, and she looks confused. “Our sensors are spaced out at specific intervals. The R.A.M.s don’t move quickly enough to have tripped the second one, Finn.”
“They might be rolling,” says Brody. “They rolled down that hill, remember?”
