He pushed her hands away. “Later. We need to get away from here first.” He nodded toward Mahajan sitting on a stone huffing and puffing. “You take him. I will be right behind you.”
“No! We have to—”
“Kusum, please. We will both die if we stay here.”
Reluctantly, she grabbed the director by the arm and forced him to his feet. “Move,” she growled.
Once they were away from the wall, Sanjay called Darshana and found out where she was waiting.
When they arrived, Darshana tied up Mahajan and put him in the trunk while Kusum tended to Sanjay’s wounds.
“Why did you let yourself get shot?” she asked.
“I believe…he was aiming…at you.” He grunted as she swabbed away the blood. “Careful!”
“Careful is something you should have been!”
She bandaged him up as best she could, and then she and Darshana stretched him out on the backseat.
As Darshana drove them away, Kusum whispered, “Rest, my love. Everything will be okay.”
Without even meaning to, he closed his eyes.
“Rest,” she repeated.
7
DREAM SKY
2:14 AM EST
WICKS ENTERED THE hut first, with Ash and the others right behind. As soon as they were all inside, the door closed automatically.
Other than the two lights hanging from the ceiling and camera mounted on the wall, there was only a circular hatch in the floor. Though it was hinged on one side, it had no handle.
Ash glanced at Wicks, an eyebrow raised.
Wicks turned to the camera. “Well? My men and I don’t want to stand here all day. Open up.”
A soft hiss seeped from around the hatch’s seal before the metal dome swung upward and revealed a vertical tube with a ladder built into the side. In a way, it reminded Ash of the abandoned California research facility Chloe had taken him to back in the spring when he’d been looking for his children.
He went first, followed by Sealy, Harden, Powell, and then Wicks.
Twenty-five feet down, the shaft opened up into a large room, with the ladder continuing all the way to the floor. Just prior to leaving the confines of the vertical tunnel, Ash activated the signal jammer in his pocket and then finished his descent.
The room was wide. A waiting room, he guessed, big enough to accommodate large groups that needed to use the tunnel. To one side was a pair of elevators, and at the opposite end of the room a single gray metal door.
As Wicks—the last down—climbed off the ladder, the metal door opened and out came a nervous-looking man in a Project Eden security uniform.
“Welcome to Dream Sky, sir,” he said to Wicks as he crossed the room. “My name is Kyle Morris. If, um, there’s anything I can assist you with, please let me—”
Wicks strode up to him. “Do you understand what’s happening out there?”
The man frowned. “Sir?”
“Around the world, at the other bases—do you have any idea?”
“Other bases, sir? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“There’s an attack under way. Several facilities have even been overrun.”
Stunned, Morris said, “Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking with you, Mr. Morris?”
“No. I didn’t mean—”
“Have there been any problems here?”
“Here? Nothing. It’s as quiet as it always is.”
“I’ll need to look at your security logs all the same.” Wicks strode past the man and headed for the metal door. “Security control center is through here, correct?”
“Well, yes, sir,” the man said, flustered. “But no one is supposed to—”
Wicks stopped and wheeled around. “I have VOD clearance. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
“Of course, but I am required to check the ID chip.”
“We are in the middle of a crisis and you want to waste time checking a chip?”
The man swallowed. “Sir, it’s regulations. If I don’t, I could be imprisoned.”
Wicks glared at him a moment longer, then relaxed. “Good answer. If you hadn’t pressed, I would have been obligated to give the detention order myself. Here.” He pulled the VOD out of his pocket and held it out.
Morris took it from him, holding the ID as if it would break into a million pieces if he dropped it.
“Should only take a moment,” Morris said. He turned toward the control center.
The ID was genuine, but Wicks had told Ash the chip inside would very likely be listed as missing. It didn’t matter much at this point, anyway. The VOD had done its job and gotten them inside.
“Actually, you won’t be checking that,” Ash said, drawing his pistol and aiming it at the man. Powell and the others immediately did the same.
Morris took off for the door.
Knowing a shot would alert those on the other side of the door, Ash chased the guard. Just as the man was reaching for the handle, Ash shoved him away from the door, and then grabbed Morris’s hand and twisted his arm backward.
As the guard yelped in pain, Ash shoved him face-first against the wall.
“We’ll take that ID back,” he said.
Morris immediately held out the VOD. “Sure. Here.”
Wicks took it.
“Now,” Ash said, “how many people are we going to find on the other side of the door?”
“Just one.”
Ash ratcheted the man’s arm up an inch.
“I’m not lying,” Morris pleaded. “There’s only two of us on the graveyard shift!”
“Did you report our arrival?”
“No! You have a VOD. We’re not supposed to.”
Ash glanced back at Harden and Sealy. “Secure him. Powell and Curtis, with me.”
__________
LOCHMERE WAS FREAKING out.
By now, Morris should be in the lobby. Lochmere had planned on watching what happened, but the moment the first of the VOD man’s team entered the transition room, all surveillance cameras in there stopped working.
Lochmere checked the settings and even tried rebooting the video system, but the result was more static.
His finger moved toward the button that linked directly with the quarters of Supervisor McHenry, the head of security, but he hesitated. VOD regulations stated that all personnel were to follow whatever orders the ID bearer gave. The man had clearly stated no one was to be informed.
Lochmere cursed in frustration and checked the cameras again. Still nothing.
Screw the VOD. Something weird was going on.
He reached for the intercom button again, but before he could press it, the control room door flew open.
__________
THE METAL DOOR opened onto a short hallway that linked the large waiting area with the control center. Ash, Powell, and Wicks made their way quickly to the door at the other end.
Powell quietly turned the handle and, after a nod from Ash, thrust the door open. Ash rushed inside, sweeping his rifle left and right before aiming it at the room’s single occupant.
“Hands in the air,” he ordered.
The guard hesitated.
“In the air, now!”
Ash’s men spread out and moved toward the guard.
The man tapped on something then raised his arms. Ash rushed forward to see what the guy had done. There were several buttons where the guard’s hand had been, one of which was lit up.
An angry, sleep-filled voice spilled out of the speaker next to the monitor. “This better be good. What do you want?”
Ash placed the muzzle of his rifle against the guard’s neck. The guard eyed him warily.
“Answer him,” Ash mouthed. “A mistake. Understand?”
“Anyone there?” the voice asked.
“Understand?” Ash repeated.
The guard nodded. “I need to press the mic button.”
Ash pressed the barrel into the man’s flesh and mou
thed, “Slowly.”
The guard lowered a hand and pressed a button. “Sir, it’s Lochmere.”
“Lochmere? Why the hell did you call me?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the guard said, his gaze locked on Ash. “It…it was a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“A short in the system, probably.”
“Jesus. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Well, call engineering and get it fixed right away. I damn well don’t want you waking me up again.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll do that right away.”
The light turned off.
“Who else did you call?” Ash asked.
“No one.”
Whether that was true or not, they’d know soon enough. Ash used one of the plastic zip ties he’d been allocated to secure Lochmere’s hands behind the man’s back. He then retrieved a sedative-filled syringe and jabbed it into the man’s arm.
With Powell’s help, he moved Lochmere to the side of the room and laid him against the wall.
Ash took a good look at the room. It wasn’t huge but it was well equipped, with four individual stations, several racks of electronic gear, and a wall covered in monitors showing various security cameras. The feeds were mainly from inside the base, views of half-lit corridors lined with identical doors. He did see a few people but for the most part the place looked empty.
He glanced at Powell. “Send one of the guys up top to report in that we’re in the nest.”
__________
CHLOE’S GROUP STRUCK metal a few moments before the radio message came that Ash’s team had successfully entered Dream Sky.
The news reinvigorated Chloe’s people and they were able to quickly remove the rest of the dirt. After the metal cap enclosing the entrance was fully exposed, Chloe ordered everyone back and removed her backpack. From inside, she retrieved the soft-sided thermal container that held several small blocks of plastic explosive, and a couple of chemical heat tubes that were there to ward off the cold night and keep the explosive pliable without making it unstable.
Working rapidly, she made half a dozen dome-shaped bombs and applied them in a circle around the cap. Once the blasting caps were in place and linked to the remote triggering device, she retreated into the woods with the others.
“Heads down, everyone!” she yelled. “Fire in the hole!”
The deafening blast rolled through the valley and across the deserted town.
Before the echo had died away, Chloe raced back to the entrance.
The only thing left of the metal cap was the outer edge that had been welded in place. She flicked on her flashlight and trained the beam through the new opening. The tunnel beyond was almost level, and seemed to go back about fifty yards before making a sharp turn to the right. At least she hoped that was the case. She’d be pissed off if this turned out to be a false lead and the tunnel didn’t connect with Dream Sky.
She stepped over the jagged edge and found bits and pieces of cap strewn across the ground inside. She turned and saw the others were gathered behind her.
“Wait there for a moment,” she instructed.
With pistol in one hand and flashlight in the other, she headed down the tunnel.
To her relief, the bend to the right was not just a recess but a continuation of the tunnel. The new section, however, went on for only about twenty feet before turning right again. Around this final bend, the tunnel stayed level for approximately ten yards before taking a drastic dip.
Right at the top of the slope was a docking area where a set of railway tracks terminated. She looked down the tunnel. Her light was nowhere near strong enough to reach the bottom, but she could see that the tracks led right down the middle of the slope.
This was how they had probably moved everything inside the base. They certainly wouldn’t have carried tons of food through that little hut in the field.
The problem was, the vehicle that used the tracks wasn’t at the top.
She scanned the area around the landing and spotted a metal box inset in the side of the tunnel. She found switches inside labeled POWER, LIGHTS, and RECALL.
She flicked the power switch.
Somewhere down the tunnel a motor began to hum. She gave it a moment to warm up and then turned on the switch labeled LIGHTS. At forty-foot intervals, lights mounted on the tunnel’s ceiling came on. For the first time she could see the bottom, though it was too far away for her to make out any details. Along the sides she could see recesses every thirty feet or so. Rest areas for the workers when the tunnel had been dug?
When she flipped the RECALL switch, the hum of the motor deepened as if it were working harder.
She moved back to the tunnel entrance and signaled the others to join her.
When they all reached the docking platform at the top of the rails, Estella pointed down the slope and said, “What’s that?”
Far down the tunnel, Chloe could just make out the front end of the funicular train now heading their way.
She smiled. “That’s our ride.”
__________
SINCE HE WAS the only one with any Project Eden experience, Wicks sat at the duty officer’s station while Ash and Powell hovered behind him.
“Ah, here we go,” Wicks said. With a tap of the keyboard, a diagram of the base appeared on the main wall screen.
“Damn,” Powell said. “How deep does this go?”
“According to this, ten levels, not counting this one.”
The circular levels were stacked on top of each other, separated by dozens of feet of earth. Elevators ran down the eastern and western edges. These began on what was called level one and went all the way down to level ten. The only way up to the level they were currently on was by using one of the two elevator cars that ran between the lobby area—the room they called Transition—and level one.
“How many people are stationed here?” Ash asked.
“Hold on.” Wicks worked the computer again. “There are currently 1,243 occupants.”
Over twelve hundred? Ash leaned back. “We can’t possibly defeat that many people.”
Wicks grinned. “Hold on. I didn’t say they were all Project personnel. Only forty-three are, and of those, only twenty are security. Counting the two who were in here, we’ve already taken out six of them.”
“Then who are the twelve hundred others?” Powell asked.
“I told you. The hope.”
“Curtis, enough already,” Ash said. “What does that mean?”
Wicks was quiet for a moment before saying, “You know Project Eden had been planning for a long, long time for all of this to happen, and that their plan doesn’t end with just destroying the old world.”
Ash nodded.
“The most important part of their plan has always been what happens after the plague runs its course. They meticulously thought out how to create a new civilization that, in their mind, would avoid the mistakes of mankind’s first go-round. What they didn’t want, though, was to start from pre-industrial revolution levels. They aren’t afraid of technology. Actually, quite the opposite. The goal those of us in the Project heard over and over was to create a new world where humanity will have the chance to stop floundering and instead soar. To do that, you can’t throw away all the knowledge of the past.” Wicks turned back to the computer. “Let me show you something.”
After he typed for several seconds, the base map was replaced on the screen by a camera feed of an Asian man lying on a hospital bed. At the edge of the shot on either side, Ash could see other beds. The layout reminded him of photos he’d seen of early twentieth-century hospital wards.
“Recognize him?” Wicks asked.
Ash studied the man in the bed. There was definitely something familiar about him but he couldn’t put his finger on what.
“Can you zoom in?” Powell asked.
A few clicks and the image tightened on the man’s face.
“You’ve got to
be kidding me,” Powell said.
“What?” Ash asked.
Instead of answering him, Powell looked at Wicks. “That can’t be him.”
“It is,” Wicks said.
“Who?” Ash asked.
Powell looked back at the screen. “That’s Dr. Carter Makato. You know, from one of those colleges in New York. You always see him in one of those Science Channel documentaries.”
That was it, Ash realized. He’d seen the man on TV. A…physicist of some sort, if he remembered correctly.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ash asked.
“Nothing,” Wicks said.
“Then why…?”
“Because he and the others are easier to control when sedated.”
“And the others…?”
“Leaders in science, medicine, engineering, things like that. The Project calls them protectees.”
“But how did they get them here?”
“Like I said, the Project had a very detailed, prepared plan. At the moment Implementation Day was activated, teams collected people from around the world who were on their lists. It was a simple task. All they had to do was claim to be from that target’s specific government, sent to protect the person during the early, confused days of the epidemic. I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing they probably went so far as to take families to avoid any problems, but from a quick scan of the records here it looks like none but the actual targets made it into Dream Sky.”
“So they’re…warehoused here?” Ash said.
“Pretty much.”
“When they find out, they’re not going to be happy,” Powell said.
“A reality the Project is aware of. But they’re counting on the fact that once the protectees realize how few people are left, and that Project Eden represents the best chance for the survival of the human race, they’ll understand the necessity of lending their expertise to the Project.”
“Reluctantly.”
“Reluctantly or enthusiastically won’t matter,” Wicks said. “As long as they see the importance of using and sharing what they know, the Project will be happy. Because without their collective knowledge, even the leadership of Project Eden knows humanity has no chance.”
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