“I don’t know.” They passed a small group of crewmembers assembled and waiting for orders. They stood out of sight of the ward’s entrance.
Krysta stepped up to the privacy panel and spread her fingers against the alloy. Trey half expected her to pass through the barrier and enter the ward. Some Mystics could. But Krysta was a healer. No, Krysta was a prophet. Well, he didn’t know exactly what Krysta was. He smiled.
“Can you hear me?” she whispered verbally, no doubt echoing the words she was projecting with her mind. “My name is Krysta.”
Trey gasped when a voice responded audibly to Krysta’s whispered words.
“I know who you are. The children are terrified. Where have you taken their mothers? What’s going on?”
“Tell the children they’ll be with their mothers in a few minutes. There’s no reason to fear. Hydran’s gone. Everyone is being transported to a ship called the Tempest. We need to drop the safety grid. We can finish the evacuation much faster if we do. What’s going on in there? Is it safe for us to come in?”
There was a long pause. Krysta shifted her position against the panel, waiting.
“How do I know this isn’t another one of Hydran’s tricks?”
“What’s your name?”
“D-128,” the voice responded harshly.
“I’m going to come in, unarmed, with one other person. Don’t be frightened.”
The owner of the voice laughed. “Nothing frightens me anymore.”
“Jon, trigger the door,” Trey ordered.
They stepped into ward D. The commons looked like a battle zone. Tables and chairs had been stacked to form barricades, some smashed for crude weapons. Most of the occupants hovered around the perimeter hesitantly watching the pair, waiting to see how their leader dealt with this new threat.
Trey turned his attention to the speaker, a tall, blonde woman dressed in a formfitting uniform of animal hide or some material that had been synthesized to look like it.
Krysta approached her cautiously but their gazes never wavered. “Your name is Ryell,” Krysta began.
“My distinction is D-128,” the woman corrected in an icy voice.
“Can we take the children out?” Krysta hadn’t actually seen one yet.
“The children are my responsibility.”
None of this made sense. Why were the children here? Why did Ryell think she needed to protect them? Had she done this to the commons? Krysta had known Ryell nearly as long as she’d known Saebin. But her voice had been so autocratic, so void of emotion Krysta hadn’t recognized it through the door.
“No one is trying to take that responsibility away from you.” Krysta took another cautious step. “We’re relocating the project. The children must be moved.”
“The children must be moved,” Ryell echoed mechanically.
“Where are the children?”
“I will evacuate the children,” Ryell snapped.
“That’s not a problem.” Krysta kept her movements slow and predictable. “We have people in the corridor who can show you where they need to go.”
Ryell whistled and the children slowly emerged from behind the barricades, looking more confused than frightened. Krysta tried to reassure them with her eyes. Ryell’s telepathy was too strong for her to dare a mental pep talk. As soon as the door closed behind Ryell, Trey started giving orders in Ontarian. Doubtlessly, they would get her beyond the dome before they took control of her.
“Is Hydran really gone?” one woman asked.
“Are we really being evacuated?” asked another.
Krysta waited until the commons filled with the occupants of ward D before she explained the situation.
“Can we get out before you drop the grid?” The first woman spoke again.
“They’re insane, you know.” A quiet voice spoke up from the back of the crowd. “Those implants have driven them mad.”
“She’s right,” the first woman agreed. “Maybe you shouldn’t drop the grid at all. Maybe you should evacuate everyone else and leave the animals in their cages where they belong.”
Before Trey realized what Krysta intended, she grabbed the mouthy woman by the hair and yanked her forward. Not again! Damn Krysta’s temper.
“One of those animals is my friend.” She sneered into the offending woman’s face. “You better hope I never find out you treated her with anything but kindness.”
“Krysta,” Trey warned in a soft, but firm tone, “this isn’t helping.”
Her fingers released and the woman scrambled back. “You’re as crazy as they are!”
Krysta hadn’t hit her. That was progress.
“Evacuating everyone else before we lower the—” That was as far as he got. Krysta grabbed his arm with both hands. Several women moaned and everyone began to sway. Trey paged the control center. No response. Surely, Jon wouldn’t…
“Lyrik, what the hell’s going on? Coms are out down here and everyone is acting drunk.”
“You’re not going to like it. You just lost the safety grid.”
“That little—”
“Weasel!” Krysta finished for him. “Why didn’t Drakkin stop him?”
“Maybe he thought we were ready.”
“I didn’t realize what he had done until I felt the surge of power,” Drakkin informed from behind them.
Someone screamed, postponing a more lengthy explanation. Half the occupants rushed toward the door, realizing it was no longer locked. The other half scurried for cover. A woman emerged from the shadows near the back of the room, adorned in a suit similar to Ryell’s. She held the screaming woman clasped to her chest, one hand banding her victim’s throat. With a subtle movement of her head, she sent two tables and several occupants flying toward the door, momentarily halting the exodus.
“What’s her name?” Trey asked urgently.
“I don’t know her. The grid just went down. Maybe her implant hasn’t lost power yet.”
“We can always hope.”
“Her mind is utter chaos,” Drakkin said. “I cannot reach her telepathically.”
“That leaves overpowering her physically.” Trey shook his head as he said it, already assessing the situation.
“If I distract her, can you cast her into stasis?” Trey asked Drakkin without taking his eyes off the woman.
“I shall try,” Drakkin said. “But I’m being bombarded with unstable emotions and incoherent thoughts. It’s difficult just to filter them out.”
“We’re not the enemy!” Krysta cried. “Why are we planning a battle? We need to make them understand.”
Darting beyond him, Krysta approached the woman. “Krysta!” Trey called, but she wasn’t listening. She kept her hands raised to shoulder level and spoke calmly and clearly.
“State your terms,” she said to the woman. “Why are you holding a hostage?”
Confusion crawled across the woman’s features but her hold never wavered. “Who are you?”
“Krysta of ward B. I’m helping Lord dar Aune with the evacuation.”
“Evacuation?” the woman muttered. “Lord who? What is my objective?”
“What’s your name?”
“What is my objective?” she asked again.
Trey stepped up beside Krysta. She had identified him as the authority figure so he squared his shoulders and met the woman’s gaze directly. “I am Lord dar Aune. It is imperative that we evacuate The Center immediately. Will the others follow your orders?”
She snapped to attention, inadvertently releasing her hostage. Krysta quickly pulled the frightened occupant away, motioning her toward the door.
“They will follow,” the soldier assured him. “What is my objective?”
Glancing over his shoulder, Trey saw that Drakkin had cleared the doorway and was ensuring an orderly exit from the ward. “Prepare the unit for immediate relocation.”
“Yes sir. Right away, sir.” Turning on the ball of her foot, she disappeared back into the shadowy perimeter of the ward.
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“Should we follow her?” Krysta asked.
“Not yet.” He looked down at her slightly disheveled form and smiled. “Good thinking. I was ready to take her on and instead she’s fighting our battle for us.”
“Hopefully.”
Krysta heard sharp orders and a few equally sharp retorts. Then a long pause. What was going on? She reached out automatically for Belle’s signal and found it, but why wasn’t it stronger now that they were in ward D?
“Everyone else is out.” Drakkin joined them outside the special unit’s open doorway.
“Should we find the medical unit while they fight it out back there?” A niggling fear took root in the pit of her stomach.
“It would be better to wait until we have the volatile ones out,” Trey said. “Why? Do you sense a problem with Belle?”
Krysta shook her head. “Her signal feels exactly as it did before. I guess I just thought it would feel stronger now that I’m closer to her.”
The red ring in Drakkin’s eyes glowed subtly, his expression distant. “She is your twin?”
“Yes. Can you tell exactly where she is?” Before he could answer, she realized how selfish she was being. “How is Vee?”
“He is chemically sedated and is working, even as we speak, to shift through the boundaries. I am unable to ascertain his exact location.”
Boot heels clanked against the floor, drawing Krysta’s attention to the special unit’s doorway. In single file, they emerged, arms at their sides, shoulders squared. Each woman wore a similar leather bodysuit. Krysta imagined that the colors indicated something but she didn’t know what.
Trey gave several quick Ontarian orders into his audiocom and two crewmembers from the Tempest stepped into the ward.
“Follow these men,” Trey commanded. “I will debrief you shortly.”
“There are only eight.” Krysta watched them march across the ward. “One went with the children. So we’re still missing three.”
“Damn.” Trey turned to Drakkin. “What do you sense?”
He scanned the unit. “There are more than three. They either have supporters or more hostages. This is the only way in or out.”
“Come out and no one gets hurt,” Trey shouted into the unit. “There is no reason for your resistance. Hydran is gone!”
A laser pulse shot down the corridor, narrowly missing Trey’s head. He leapt back and looked at Krysta accusingly. “Did you know they had weapons?”
She snapped her gaping mouth shut and glared at him. “Yes. I was hoping they’d blast your head off.”
“Now, now, children. This is no time for a lovers’ spat.” Drakkin chuckled. “Obviously, at least one of them has a projection-type weapon. This is getting more interesting by the moment. It’s clear from the others that their training is pseudomilitary. We need to respond within that paradigm.”
“What does that mean?” Krysta demanded. “March down the hall shooting at anything that moves?”
“Krysta,” Trey began, “we both know your best friend—”
“You don’t know a damn thing! You don’t know how Hydran works. Why do they still have hostages? To protect themselves. They’re afraid!”
He reached for her arm but Krysta side-stepped him and darted toward the doorway to the unit.
“I’m an occupant,” she called out. “Don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot.”
Trey lunged for her but Krysta saw Drakkin pull him back. “She’s right. I am inundated with fear.”
Krysta’s entire body trembled as she entered the special unit’s area of the ward. Flanked by doorways, she tried to determine the location of the shooter. Voices whispered. Someone cried out and the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh responded. Silence.
“Will someone please talk to me? Let me explain what’s going on,” she said loudly.
“Didn’t believe D-114. Why would I believe you?”
“It could have been D-114’s objective to lie, to test you. I have no objective. I’m not even part of the program. I belong to ward B. My name is Krysta.”
“Krysta?”
The woman whispered her name with the strangest inflection, a tormented combination of confusion and suspicion. Krysta could make out her basic shape in the darkness at the end of the corridor. She paced from side to side like a caged animal, pushing her fingers through her hair almost spasmodically.
“Do I know a Krysta?”
“Let the others go so we can talk.”
“Where would they go?” The woman laughed. “Hydran will only kill them. Hydran will come for them eventually. He always does.”
“I can’t see you but can you see me?” The woman didn’t respond so Krysta let her voice reflect twenty-three years of frustration and pain. “Hydran is gone. We are evacuating The Center. This is the last ward to go. We’re almost finished but we need to hurry in case he changes his mind and comes back. You know how crazy he is. He could decide to come back.”
“Who was that man? I heard a man? Men come with Hydran.”
“It’s a long story.” She smiled. “But his eyes swirl like ours.”
Her pacing stopped. For a long time nothing happened then five figures emerged from the room on her right. Four occupants followed a woman in an elite program bodysuit. The apparent leader remained at the end of the hall. Krysta glanced at Trey. Sure enough, the five were swarming around him, their fascination obvious.
“Do you have the weapon that fired at Lord dar Aune?” Krysta asked, ready for it to end.
“I am the weapon.”
Krysta didn’t ask her to explain.
Where was Saebin? She hadn’t come out yet. They didn’t seem to respond to names and she didn’t know Saebin’s distinction. “Are you the only one left back there?”
“I can’t—remember you,” she ground out.
Except with Belle, Krysta’s telepathic abilities were nearly nonexistent. She tried to sense Saebin but only managed to intensify the chaotic emotions coming from the woman at the end of the hall. Drakkin was helping direct the other women away from Trey so Krysta cautiously progressed down the corridor.
“What ward did you belong to before you came here?” Krysta asked.
She looked into each room, doing her best to search for Saebin while keeping the woman in her peripheral vision.
“There was no time before. I am D-168 and I will complete my objective!”
“Okay, Dee.” Krysta blew out a slow, controlled breath. She had almost reached her. “I thought there might be one more person back here but I don’t see her. I don’t know her distinction, but her name used to be Saebin.”
“Saebin,” Dee echoed.
She took a step forward and Krysta saw her face. Krysta’s heart lurched and her chest ached. Fighting back the bile burning her throat, her hand flew to cover her mouth. Twisted into a malicious sneer, Saebin’s roommate from ward C was nearly unrecognizable.
“Oh, Reeva, what have they done to you?” Her implant was new. The hair around the site had yet to grow back and the scars zigzagging her scalp were still pink and puckered.
With an economy of movement that left Krysta gasping and amazed, Reeva grabbed one of her arms, spun her, grasped the other, forced her to the floor on her stomach and secured her arms at the small of her back. For a moment she just lay there stunned, trying to figure out how it had happened. Then Reeva shoved her fist in front of Krysta’s face, showing her the other implant recently installed in her body.
“It channels my energy in nice even bursts, right out my middle knuckle.” She laughed. “Best part is, I never have to reload.”
Krysta’s belly cramped, partially from the pressure Reeva was putting on her and partially from the knowledge that bringing down the grid had apparently had no effect on her whatsoever.
“What do you want?” Krysta whispered. Stay calm. Why did she attack? Because she’s a freaking loon!
Krysta, if I enter the corridor will she shoot? Drakkin’s voice appeared within her
fear-muddled mind.
Had he heard her ramblings? It didn’t matter!
Yes! If she sees a man right now, there’s no telling what she’ll do. Men come from Hydran.
“Dee,” Krysta said out loud, though she could hardly breathe well enough to speak. “Why are you on top of me?”
“Krysta. You are Krysta and she is…I am…who am I?”
“Let me up and I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“Saebin. Oh God, Saebin!” Krysta felt Reeva’s knuckle against the back of her head. “You will tell me where he took her and you will tell me now!”
“Someone took Saebin?” Krysta asked. “Do you mean Hydran?”
Krysta lifted her head, trying to turn her face and see Reeva. Instead she saw Trey and Drakkin step into the corridor as one. Drakkin stunned Reeva, ensuring her hand didn’t harm Krysta. Trey fired his pulse pistol, watching dispassionately as her body flew off Krysta and hit the wall behind her.
“Hydran took Saebin,” Krysta repeated as Trey rushed to her side.
He pulled her snugly into his embrace, his gaze filled with tenderness and dread. Dread? Why did she see dread in his eyes?
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s worse than you know. They found the medical unit. It’s deserted. The stasis chambers are empty. Hydran took them all, Saebin, Vee and Belle.”
Chapter Twelve
“He’s starting over.”
Silence followed Krysta’s statement. No one moved. No one spoke. Trey glanced at Drakkin before returning his focus to Krysta. He’d seen this look on her before, the artificial calm, the seeming indifference. She’d used this façade at the resort as they’d listened to Hydran’s log.
“He has everything he needs now.” Her voice shook just a little. “He’ll launch Level Four.”
Trey ignored her casual efforts to escape his embrace until she jerked free and moved several steps away. “Krysta, we—”
“If Vee hadn’t come down here, Hydran wouldn’t have taken Belle! He was stalled at Level Three.”
Her anxiety built with each word she uttered. She blinked repeatedly and licked her lips, rocking onto the balls of her feet. Drakkin circled behind her, the red ring in his eyes subtlety glowing.
Operation Hydra (Beyond Ontariese 2) Page 19
