The Blade of Shattered Hope 1r-3

by James Dashner

  Tick shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But I can’t risk anything right now. We just need to stick with her and wait for the Haunce to come, I guess. Don’t do anything to tick her off!”

  “Tick her off,” Sofia repeated through a halfhearted laugh. “That has meaning on so many levels, it’s ridiculous.”

  Paul snickered. “I gare-on-tee you could take her, Superman. I’m not worried.”

  Tick rolled his eyes even though the others probably couldn’t tell. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, much less hear the junk about his powers. Despite what had happened so far, he felt no more like a superhero than he would a bird if someone glued wings on his back.

  Jane reached a large shiny, metal door, big silver bolts lining the edges. It seemed almost too modern for the cavernous feel of the tunnels through which they’d been walking forever.

  As they approached the door, Tick felt an increase in magnitude of the womps-the rhythmic pulses vibrating his teeth and skull.

  Jane turned around to face them. The firekelt stood slightly ahead of her and to the left, and the light from its flames illuminated her perfectly. She spoke in her desert-sand voice.

  “I don’t know what you’ve heard about the Factory, but you’re about to witness it firsthand. I’ll admit that my pride has gotten the better part of me today. I desperately want to show this to the three of you-especially you, Atticus. Otherwise I wouldn’t bother with the extra protection of my Barrier Staff and would’ve killed you already. Your lingering presence in the Realities is beginning to disturb me. Greatly.”

  “So you’re gonna show us your evil factory and then kill us?” Paul asked, his tone full of the usual sarcasm. “What is this, a bad James Bond movie?” Jane’s mask didn’t show any anger. Tick thought she probably didn’t want to give Paul the satisfaction. “Please, boy. What you’re about to see will be so above your mental capacity and intellect that even if you escaped, you’d barely be able describe it, much less share any of my secrets. Just consider this a whim of mine. Nothing more.”

  “You said you’d hear me out,” Tick said. “We don’t have time for this!”

  “Patience, Atticus. A short trip through my house of wonders, and then you can talk. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be the only one talking from this point on.”

  “Could you maybe drink some cough syrup first?” Paul asked.

  This time Jane’s mask did fill with rage as she pointed the upper tip of the Staff at Paul. An instant later, his entire body lifted up from the ground and slammed against the wall. He tried to scream, but nothing came out-only a slight gurgling in the bottom of his throat. His face turned purple with pain, and his hands squeezed into fists.

  “Stop it, Jane!” Tick yelled, unable to stop the surge of Chi’karda that ignited inside him. “Leave him alone!”

  Jane pointed the Staff at Tick; Paul dropped in a heap of arms and legs onto the floor. “Don’t even think about it, Atticus. Pull your Chi’karda back, right now!”

  Tick closed his eyes for a second, calming his heart. The spits of lava flaring in his chest puttered out, cooled. He still breathed heavily, though, as he looked at Jane once again. “You didn’t have to do that to him.”

  Paul groaned and shifted his body. At least he seemed okay.

  Jane’s mask still held onto its anger. “I don’t like him. He’s a smart aleck. Tell him to keep his mouth shut.” Her face melted back into the void as she turned toward the silver door once again.

  Sofia immediately moved to help Paul to his feet, being more gentle than Tick had ever seen her before. Paul hunched over slightly, his face maybe forever locked into a grimace of pain, but, surprisingly, he said nothing.

  Sofia looked at Tick and mouthed the words, “We’re dead.”

  Tick shook his head adamantly but didn’t say anything. Movement from Jane grabbed his attention.

  She placed her right hand on the center of the silver door. Shocked, Tick watched as the metal seemed to liquefy at her touch. Jane’s hand sank into the gray goop up to the wrist. A second later she pulled her hand back out again. Tick expected the metal surface to ripple like a pond, but it didn’t, solidifying instantly instead.

  Then, with a great rumbling sound, the entire door slid to the right, disappearing into the rock and revealing a very modern-looking hallway ahead of them, with white tile floors, fluorescent lights on the ceiling, and glass windows on the walls.

  “All the doors in the Factory have a Reality Echo,” Jane explained. “That means it’s actually a combination of matter taken from more than one Reality, visible in each place but absolutely impossible to open no matter what you do. Explosives, tanks, the strongest battering ram ever made-none of it would work. Only the pre-approved cellular structure of those previously recorded by my people can do it.”

  She looked at them over her shoulder, her mask alive with arrogance. “Even I wouldn’t be able to use my powers to dissolve the material without an extraordinary amount of effort. The door is literally in different Realities simultaneously-therefore, nothing existing solely in this one could make it move. Reality Echo. Impressed?”

  Tick nodded before he could stop himself. He was impressed.

  Paul let out a low whistle, a small but telling sign to Tick that Jane hadn’t killed his spirit completely, not yet-Tick hoped not ever.

  “The door is nothing compared to what you’re about to see,” Jane said, a hint of giddiness in her voice. “Follow me.”

  She entered the brightly lit hallway, her shoes-hidden beneath the folds of her long robe-tapping on the tile floor. Tick hesitated a second before following, terrified of what horrors they might be about to see, not to mention the worry eating at him about the Haunce and what they were supposed to accomplish. His chest tight with every breath, he stepped through the doorway along with Paul and Sofia.

  The first section consisted of offices-normal human people dressed in normal human clothes tapping away at computer keyboards with monitors, printers, and servers everywhere. Several odd-looking machines were also scattered about the desks, similar to the machines they’d seen back in the desert. But nothing too out of the ordinary. If Tick didn’t know better, he would have thought it was an accounting business.

  “This is where data is analyzed,” Jane explained without turning around. She kept walking. “It’s also where oversight of the melding processes takes place-a tricky operation that needs tight supervision.”

  Melding processes? Tick thought. She acted like she’d said cereal production or car manufacturing. How could she be so callous?

  They came to another massive metal door exactly like the first one. Jane shoved her hand into the silver goop, and soon this one opened up as well. A rancid smell of decay surged through the door like an infested wind. Tick and his friends coughed and sputtered, covering their noses. Tick tried to breathe only through his mouth, but then he tasted the air, which was even worse.

  “What is that?” Sofia managed to choke out.

  “It’s the smell of progress,” Jane said as she entered the barely lit hallway on the other side.

  Tick, despite the putrid smell, despite his queasiness, couldn’t help but feel extremely curious. The surging, throbbing pulses of invisible power emanating from the open door pounded his senses.

  He followed Jane into the stinky darkness.

  Chapter 47

  Weapons of Mass Coolness

  Sato kept trying to dampen his emotions, stay levelheaded, but a new surge of confidence swelled inside him. For the first time, he felt like they were a real army with a real chance.

  Now they had weapons.

  The reunion with Master George and Sally had been thrilling but brief, exchanging barely a dozen words before they turned their full attention to the large wooden boxes. The Fifths looked like their eyes might pop, they were so excited and intrigued by what Mothball and Sally started pulling out of the crates, George explaining their uses in his very sophisticated voice, Rutger but
ting in now and then to say how cool this or that was.

  The usual: boxes of Ragers-those little balls of compacted static electricity that exploded on impact in a display of destructive lightning. Some Shurrics-large guns of sonic power that devastated with sound waves.

  A couple of new things as well: Squeezers, which were grenades full of tiny but extremely strong wires. When it exploded, the wires shot out and latched onto whatever was closest, then immediately retracted and curled up, no matter what the material. Very nasty results.

  Finally, there was the Halter. A thin but sturdy plastic tube that ended in a cone, with a simple trigger on one end of the tube and a small cartridge on the other. Each cartridge equaled one shot: a spray of tiny darts spread out and injected its victims-potentially dozens if it hit a group-with a serum that immediately paralyzed them for hours. It was a variation of what Master George had created for Sofia to stop Tick’s madness at Chu’s headquarters. Very effective.

  Ragers, Shurrics, Squeezers, Halters. Plenty to go around.

  This could be fun.

  The other group that had gone exploring returned about a half-hour after Master George’s arrival, saying they found nothing but a very long, encircling wooden fence, with only one exception-a gate of iron bars. The only thing they could see through it was a small grove of trees and nothing they did would open up the gate or make someone appear. So they’d come back, relieved to see why they hadn’t met up with the others on the far side.

  Once the weapons had been passed out and the wooden boxes thrown into the forest to hide them-though they were probably being spied on anyway-the entire Fifth Army gathered around Sato. Time for business.

  “Okay,” Sato began, his voice raised. “Seems like we’ve got no choice but to climb over that stupid fence. It’s probably about thirty feet high, but there are plenty of handholds and footholds, so it shouldn’t be too hard. I’m just worried about what might be waiting for us when we pop our heads over the edge. Once we have a good, solid group of twenty or so right at the top, we’ll throw volleys of Ragers and Squeezers to clear the way, and then we’ll send the first group over to cover with Shurric fire while the rest of us enter. Sound good?”

  Rutger tapped Sato on the arm. “What about me? Don’t see myself rolling up the side of that fence very easily.”

  Sato had to hold in a laugh-he didn’t want to embarrass his friend. “I think you, Sally, and Master George should use the Wand to go back to headquarters, monitor us, and wink us out when we’re ready.”

  The look of relief that washed over Rutger before he quickly wiped it away made Sato like him more than ever. George stepped closer, pulling a yellow envelope from the inner pocket of his suit coat.

  “Goodness gracious me,” he said, ripping the envelope open. “I almost forgot the most important part.” He pulled out a handful of square pieces of paper-no more than an inch on each side-then shook them on his flat palm for everyone to get a look.

  “What are those?” Sato asked.

  “Nanolocator patches.” George poured the square pieces back into the envelope, then pulled a single one out and held it between his thumb and forefinger. “There are hundreds here, and all you need to do is slap this against the skin of any person. The microscopic nanolocator will immediately slide off the patch and onto the subject, at which point we can wink them away. If we’re looking to rescue children from this miserable place, these patches will be our best shot.”

  Sato was amazed and thrilled. Solutions to his two biggest concerns had been opened up for him-how they’d fight without weapons, and how they’d herd a bunch of potentially injured, suffering children safely away while fighting Jane’s monsters. Everything was in place.

  “This is great,” Sato said, ignoring that small part in his brain that said it all seemed too easy. Meeting whatever waited inside the Factory would probably cure him of that, and quickly. “You guys wink back to headquarters now. We’ll take it from here.”

  George handed him the envelope. “Best of luck, then. There are plenty of those patches, so be sure to put them on everyone here first-except you and Mothball, of course. We already have you pegged. We’ll have all the information we need back in the Control Room, and we’ll be watching closely, I assure you. Sally will be at the Grand Canyon HQ with Priscilla Persephone from the Seventh to help with the children-we’ll send them directly there.”

  “Just call me Papa Sally,” the big man said. “Might even read dem squirts a story or two ’bout the old days on the chicken farm.”

  “Sounds good,” Sato said. “Now you guys get out of here-time’s wasting. I mean… please, whatever.”

  George hardly seemed to notice. He made a few adjustments to the Barrier Wand, had Rutger and Sally put their hands on it, and then the three of them disappeared. A few oohs and ahs escaped the Fifths.

  Sato handed the envelope of nanolocator patches to Mothball. “Pass those out. We climb the wall in five minutes.”

  After sending Sally off to the Grand Canyon, Master George got straight to work at the Bermuda Triangle headquarters, walking around the mesh metal walkways of the confined and claustrophobic structure, pointing left and right.

  “Rutger, I want every computer in this building set up in the Control Room. I want the Big Board lined up and ready to go with monitoring all those nanolocators. Put a call out to all Realitants-if they can make it here to help, so be it. With all the destruction, they may be needed elsewhere, but make them aware of our plans, anyway.”

  Rutger waddled to keep up, saying, “Okay,” after every instruction.

  “We need to help Sally and Priscilla set up a refugee camp at the Grand Canyon. They’ll need beds and clothes and doctors and who knows what else! We also need to come up with a contingency plan-so many things could go wrong. And we-”

  “Master George?” Rutger asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I got it.”

  “Good, then. Let’s get moving!”

  Rutger cleared his throat. “Could you, um, at least make me a sandwich while I’m doing all this work? I’m starving.”

  Chapter 48

  The Factory

  The dark and smelly hallway, its walls made of black stone, wet and slimy, went about fifty feet before it came to its first window. Tick could see it just ahead of Mistress Jane when she stopped and turned to face them, but he couldn’t tell what was behind the window. A sick anticipation poisoned his veins. The firekelt was behind them now, throwing their giant shadows along the floor like flat creatures of the night.

  “What we do here,” Jane began, “is the coordination of my lifetime’s work in the fields of science with the special characteristics of the mutated Chi’karda in the Thirteenth Reality. We use bio-engineering, genetic restructuring and manipulation, and chemistry. But without the special touch of… shall we say magic? No, that’s such a dirty word. It’s all semantics, I guess. But without the special power of the Thirteenth’s Chi’karda, all of this would suffer from a missing link.”

  She raised her arms, the robe fanning out like a fallen angel’s wings. “But here, where I’ve put it all together to showcase the greatest scientific achievements of all human history-here is where the revolution of the Realities has begun. Here is where we begin our journey to a perfect place for all mankind. In a thousand years, they will look back and say it began with me. Now, watch and learn. Watch and let yourself feel wonder.”

  The mask on her face showed something like ecstasy, the black holes of her eyes actually widening for the first time Tick could remember seeing. She looked completely crazy.

  “Amazing how humble you are,” Sofia said. Tick was glad she spoke and not Paul, because he might not have survived the punishment a second time around. “If your intentions are so pure, then why do you care so much about taking all the credit? Sounds like a power trip to me.”

  Jane lowered her arms, her look of rapture melting into a glare. “Don’t judge me, you spoiled, rich brat. Always had ever
ything you wanted, always pampered, always safe. Always judging those less fortunate than you. Don’t… judge… me.” These last three words came out so enflamed that Sofia took a step backward and didn’t respond.

  “Now,” Jane said in a much nicer voice, though laced with an icy insincerity. “The three of you will step up and look through the first observation window. You will say nothing, and you will not look away. You will not close your eyes. I, also, will remain silent, letting you get a good look before I explain what it is you’re witnessing.” She stepped to the far side, opposite the window, and gestured toward it with her Staff. “Now come.”

  Tick and his friends exchanged quick glances, then stepped forward until they stood together in front of the large glass square. Tick felt the struggle of each and every breath as he leaned forward, the window mere inches from his nose.

  He looked. His mind jumped to full capacity trying to take in and understand all that he saw.

  The room he observed was about forty feet square and dimly lit, mainly from four pale yellow panels on the ceiling. Three beds occupied the middle of the floor, lined up to form the edges of a triangle, the closest bed empty and parallel to the window. In the center of the triangle stood a hunched over monster of a man at least eight feet tall with his back to them. He wore black clothes and had no hair on his head. His massive back was covered in a tattered shirt, and the skin beneath the ripped clothing was wet with bloody gashes. The man didn’t move anything but his arms, typing away at what Tick assumed was a computer on the other side of his gigantic body.

  Tick turned his attention to the very different occupants of the other two beds, which lay at angles to either side of the workman. A large, odd-shaped tube, maybe ten inches in diameter, snaked from rafters in the ceiling and connected to the two bodies at the chest-right over the heart-linking them together. The left bed contained a large raven-black as oil and two feet tall. The bird barely moved; every few seconds its wings twitched, making Tick think it must be awake on some level and suffering horribly.