Michael Vey 2
Page 13
The marble-tiled corridor was dimly lit and the only sound was the echo of their footsteps as they walked. The observation room and detaining cells were at the end of the hallway. One of the guards opened the door, and Hatch stepped in.
Dr. Jung, the resident psychiatrist, was sitting in a chair facing a two-way mirror that looked into the adjacent room. He stood as Hatch entered.
“Dr. Hatch, I was just—”
Hatch raised his hand, silencing the psychiatrist. He leaned forward toward the glass to better comprehend what he was seeing in the next room.
Tanner, one of the seventeen electric children, was cuffed and curled up in bed in the fetal position, softly whimpering. His long, red hair was tangled up around his face.
Hatch studied him for a moment, then turned back toward the doctor.
“You incompetent worm. I told you to fix him. Do those letters before your name even mean anything?”
The psychiatrist was red in the face. “I’m doing my best.”
“And your best is in restraints curled up in the corner of his room.”
“He’s not a machine, sir. He’s a boy. You can’t just go in and change out a few parts and make him better.”
“But I can change out a few doctors,” Hatch said.
The psychiatrist took the threat seriously. He’d heard rumors about what happened to those dispatched from the Elgen service. Most became GPs. Some of them just disappeared. He began stuttering, “W-w-what do you want me to do?”
“Why are you asking me? You’re the shrink. Give him a pill. Give him a hundred pills, just fix him.”
“He has a conscience. If you killed a thousand people, you’d have trouble sleeping at night too.”
Hatch leaned in toward him, his eyes narrowing. “I never have trouble sleeping, Doctor. And if you ever insinuate anything like that again, I’ll see to it that you never have trouble sleeping either.”
The doctor swallowed. “I didn’t mean to imply . . . Tanner’s just really stressed right now. He’s been worked too hard. Children need downtime. We need to let him spend some time with the other teenagers. And his parents.”
“His parents?” Hatch said softly. “You think he should see his parents?”
The doctor looked terrified. “He said he misses them.”
“Of course he misses them, you idiot. That’s why he’s been taken from them. So you think he should spend a little quality time with them? And what if he tells his parents what he’s been doing, and they tell him they would rather die than have him drop another plane from the sky? Add that to your list of mental problems.” Hatch walked across the room. “You’re on probation, Doctor. Don’t disappoint me again.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll figure him out.”
“You better. I’m taking both of you with me to Peru. I expect the boy to be heavily sedated. Heavily. I don’t want to be along for the ride when he decides to take his life again. We leave first thing in the morning, oh five hundred hours.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hatch looked back at Tanner for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room. On the way to the elevator Hatch’s phone rang.
“Dr. Hatch, Captain Welch is on the line.”
“Put him through.” Hatch paused in the hallway. “Did you capture Vey?”
“No. We lost him.”
“How do you lose a tracking device?”
“He must have discovered the RFID tracers in the GPs and disabled them.”
Hatch’s anger reached a new high. “Find them now!”
“Yes, sir. We’ll find them, sir.”
Hatch threw his phone across the hall. “Vey!”
The guard retrieved his phone and held open the elevator door. “Your phone, sir.”
Hatch took it from him. “Fifth floor.”
Quentin, Tara, Kylee, and Bryan were sitting in the Elgen dining room waiting for Hatch to arrive. Torstyn was on the opposite side of the room, looking through a stack of Soldier of Fortune magazines.
“What’s Torstyn’s power?” Bryan whispered.
The kids rarely talked about one another’s powers, and Torstyn had been separated from them for so long that some of them had forgotten what he could do.
“He’s like a human microwave oven,” Tara said.
“That could come in handy,” Bryan said.
“Yeah,” Quentin said dryly. “Around lunchtime.”
Torstyn suddenly looked up from the magazine he was browsing, and Bryan quickly turned away. Torstyn stood up and walked over to the group. “Hey, Tara,” he said. “Do that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“You know, what you did on the helicopter with your powers.”
Quentin looked at Tara, and she blushed. “I don’t know. . . .”
“Oh, come on. You said you needed to practice.”
Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever it is, she doesn’t want to do it. So leave her alone.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, pretty boy. Mind your own business.”
“I’m the student body president of the academy, so Tara is my business.”
Torstyn grinned. “That is pathetic. Never before has so little power gone to somebody’s head. And in case you didn’t get the memo, school’s out, loser.”
Quentin turned red in the face. “Don’t push your luck, Tor-Stain.”
Torstyn pushed his face into Quentin’s. “Do you think I’m afraid of you? While you’ve spent the last year and a half lounging around California in designer jeans and polo shirts, drinking girlie drinks with little umbrellas in them, you know what I’ve been doing for fun? I hunt anacondas alone in the jungles. No gun. No machete. Just me.” He rolled up his sleeve to show a ragged scar across his biceps leading to two large puncture wounds.
All the kids stared, and Torstyn was pleased by their response. “Last January, during the rainy season, I was wading through a patch of jungle when a thirty-foot anaconda shot out of the water and grabbed me by the arm. It tried to drag me into the river.”
“No way, dude,” Bryan said.
Torstyn smiled. “As it was wrapping its coils around me, I looked it in the eyes and cooked it. Its brain exploded out its ears.”
“Whoa!” Bryan said. “Awesome!”
“I had some of the servants drag the snake back to the compound, and I had boots made out of its skin. The thing was a monster. I could have made a dozen pairs.” Torstyn looked at Quentin and sneered. “I’m guessing the scariest thing you’ve faced in the last year was too much starch in your shorts, pretty boy.”
Quentin didn’t back down. “You want to see how much you scare me, Tarzan?” Quentin said. The air around him began to crackle with electricity.
“Don’t start what you don’t want me to finish, tough guy,” Torstyn said.
“C’mon, guys,” Tara said. “This isn’t cool. Someone could get hurt.”
“Shut up,” Bryan said. “I want to see them fight. Battle of the Titans.”
“There better not be a fight,” Hatch said sternly, walking into the room. “Stand down. Both of you.” He looked at Torstyn. “You weren’t thinking of using your powers on another family member?”
Torstyn fidgeted. “Uh, no, sir.”
“And you, Quentin?”
“No, sir. I was protecting Tara’s honor, sir.”
“That sounds noble,” Hatch said facetiously. “You were going to protect her ‘honor’ with your powers?”
He swallowed. “It hadn’t come to that, sir.”
“You both should be glad for that. Remember my rules, gentlemen. Then remember the penalty for breaking my rules.”
“Yes, sir,” they both said.
“Now listen up. We are flying out first thing in the morning. So pack up tonight. We’ll be gone awhile and where we’re going there are no shopping malls and no concierge desk. You’re going to be roughing it. So bring extra necessities. Especially you young ladies.”
“How long will we be gone?” Kylee a
sked.
“More than a month. Possibly as long as a year.”
“A year?” Tara said.
Quentin raised his hand. Torstyn rolled his eyes.
“May I ask where we’re going, sir?” Quentin asked.
“No, you may not. I will fill everyone in on the details during the flight. Now go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow, and I need you all to be sharp. Everyone’s excused except for Torstyn and Quentin. You two stay.”
“Yes, sir,” Quentin said.
Torstyn breathed out heavily. “All right.”
When everyone had left Hatch looked at the two young men. Quentin’s head was slightly bowed; Torstyn was slumped down in his chair.
“Sit up,” Hatch said to Torstyn.
“Yes, sir,” he said, straightening himself up. “Sorry, sir.”
“You thought you were going to fight? What were you thinking? This isn’t a schoolyard playground. With your powers, any fight is to the death. Or have you grown stupid in the last two days? Who gave you permission to kill each other?”
They sat quietly, avoiding Hatch’s fierce gaze.
“I asked you a question!” Hatch shouted. “Who told you that you could risk your life without my permission?”
“No one, sir,” Quentin said.
Torstyn shook his head. “No one, sir.”
Hatch leaned forward. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I don’t care what you think of each other. But if either of you lets your ego get in the way of what’s about to happen, you’ll spend the rest of your life guarding a Starxource plant in Outer Mongolia. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“There will be order and strict obedience. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” they repeated.
“Good. Quentin has been in charge of the group for the last five years in Pasadena and has done an adequate job of keeping the Elgen youths in line. I see no reason to change that. Quentin will remain my number one.”
Quentin crossed his arms triumphantly over his chest, giving Torstyn a satisfied look. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t get smug, Quentin. You’re number one over the rest of the youths, but not Torstyn. Torstyn answers only to me.”
“Thank you, sir,” Torstyn said, glaring at Quentin.
“Where we’re headed is no Beverly Hills vacation, and none of you, except Torstyn, are ready for what you’re going to encounter. Torstyn knows what it takes to survive in a hostile environment, don’t you, Torstyn?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hear me and hear me well. Whatever you do, you will not get romantically involved with any members of the family. We do not need any complications right now—a house divided against itself cannot stand. Do you both understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they said again.
“What we are facing will test everyone. We’ve lost half the youths already, and now Tanner is on the verge of cracking. In fact, he already has. I need both of you one hundred percent. Now shake hands.”
Quentin reached out his hand. “My apologies.”
Torstyn gripped his hand. “Okay,” he said. “Me too.”
“Good,” Hatch said. “I’m not surprised that you’re at odds. You’re both alpha males and you’re both warriors—which is exactly what I need right now. Warriors.” He leaned forward. “Gentlemen, the pieces are in place and we’re about to make the first move. The war has begun. But first we must cleanse the inner vessel.”
The sun was just starting to rise in Rome as Dr. Hatch and the electric children drove in a small convoy of Mercedes-Benz vans to the Leonardo da Vinci–Fiumicino airport to board the Elgen’s private jet. Only Tanner traveled alone, strapped to a gurney and heavily sedated. He was attended by his doctor and one guard.
Hatch was in the lead car with three guards and the driver. He was wearing his dark, custom glasses and wrote in a notebook the entire ride, speaking only when they reached their destination.
He didn’t talk to the youths at all, except to hurry them onto the plane. They each took their own row of seats except for Tara and Kylee, who sat next to each other. Tanner and Dr. Jung were behind the others, near the back of the aircraft. Tanner’s gurney was fastened to the wall next to Dr. Jung’s seat and a screen was drawn around them. After the jet’s cabin door was closed, Hatch disappeared into his private quarters, in the back of the plane.
The flight attendant distributed a breakfast parfait to the passengers, then offered a full hot breakfast, which only Torstyn took. Bryan and both of the girls fell asleep as soon as they were airborne.
About two hours after the jet had left the ground, Hatch came out of his quarters and walked to the front of the main cabin. He grabbed a microphone from the wall and spoke. “All right, everyone. Give me your attention.”
He waited as the kids stirred. Quentin woke Tara and Kylee. “Dr. Hatch is speaking.”
“Is everyone listening?” Hatch asked.
“Yes, sir,” Quentin said.
“Show me the Elgen salute.”
Everyone made the sign, touching the three middle fingers of their left hands to their temples, their thumb and little finger touching.
“Listen carefully. What I’m about to tell you is C10.”
“Whoa,” Bryan said. He glanced over at Quentin, who raised his eyebrows.
Hatch labeled messages to the teens in levels of confidentiality—the more important the message, the higher the level. C10 was the highest. Even Quentin had only heard a C10 once before. The consequence of divulging information was proportionate to the level of confidentiality. Revealing a C10 message to outsiders would carry the highest punishment—death by torture.
“We are flying to Peru because I have been ordered by the Elgen board to shut down and dismantle the Neo-Species Genesis program—the very program that brought you to me in the first place, the program that you and I have spent our lives on for the last twelve years. I have been instructed to reallocate the scientists to different Starxource operations, quietly exterminate the GPs, and then send you all off to lead your own lives as private, normal citizens of whatever country and school you choose, never to hear from us again.” Hatch leaned back, waiting for the teens to react.
“What?” Quentin said, clearly stunned.
“They can’t do that!” Tara said.
Kylee started crying.
After a moment Bryan said, “Does this mean no more family trips?”
“No more family trips,” Hatch said calmly. “No more family. You’re on your own.”
Hatch stoically watched them as the reality settled in, his own emotions concealed behind his glasses. The teens were clearly upset, glancing back and forth at one another in disbelief, hoping that Dr. Hatch was playing some kind of a horrible prank.
Finally Hatch said, “So tell me, what do you have to say to that?”
Quentin was the first to speak. “With all due respect, sir. I think I can speak for all of us and say we don’t like it. We want to stay with you.”
Hatch glanced up and down the rows. “Is that true? Kylee?”
Kylee wiped her eyes. “Yes, sir. I don’t want to be an orphan.”
“Tara?”
“Me too, sir.”
“Bryan?”
“I think it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Torstyn?”
“Sucks.”
Hatch nodded a little. “Then I take it you disapprove, Torstyn?”
“Yes, sir. I disapprove.”
Hatch paused for a moment. “Then the real question is, perhaps, what exactly would you be willing to do to keep the family together?”
“Whatever you tell us to do, sir,” Quentin said. “Right, everyone?” He was answered with a chorus of affirmations.
Hatch studied their expressions for a moment, then nodded approvingly. “Exactly what I thought you would say. Now let me remind you that what I am going to tell you, every word of it, is C10. What is the punishmen
t for disclosing a C10 secret? Tara.”
“The punishment for disclosing a C10 secret is death by torture.”
“That is correct,” Hatch said. “If you understand, show me the salute.”
They all put their fingers to their temples again.
Hatch looked down for a moment, then removed his glasses, carefully folding them and sliding them into his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’m pleased to hear that you don’t like the board’s plans, because I have no intention of following them.
“Imagine, letting you go. You beautiful, powerful youths. Cast out as pearls among the swine of humanity. You, my eagles, are not to spend your lives pecking among the chickens. The chickens are for your amusement only.
“The board will not decide our fate. We, not them, are in charge. We, not them, carry the burden of history. Their rejection is not a surprise to me. I knew that the day would come when we would reach this impasse. Why? Because we have different motivations. Their motivation is profit. But our motivation, our cause, is nothing less than a new world.
“Those idiots on the board want to put a new coat of paint on the house. I say burn the house to the ground and rebuild it! No government but our government. No religion but our religion. No gods but our gods. We will tear down the human foundation brick by brick and construct our own.
“These chickens have lost their way. And we are going to lead them into a bright, new coop.” His eyes carefully studied the excited expressions of the youths. He spoke his next words very slowly and deliberately. “Are you with me?”
The youths cheered.
“The war has begun, my eagles. First the Elgen corporation, then the world. I have been preparing. We are going to Peru, not to shut down the compound, but to consolidate our power. Peru will be our headquarters for mounting our overthrow of the misguided corporation. You will be my war council, my generals, and my personal guard. Make no mistake, the stakes are high. If we lose, you are on your own, no money, no privilege, just a life of quiet desperation pecking out an existence with the rest of the chickens.”
Hatch looked around the cabin, judging the effect of his words by the terrified and indignant looks on their faces.