Grounded

by G. P. Ching

  After a long drink, he continues. “Konrad was the scientist at the forefront of biotechnical research and was quickly named to oversee the study. The government solicited military personnel to apply to participate. There were four qualifications: the applicant had to be in peak physical condition, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, willing to live undercover for an indefinite amount of time, and married, only husband-and-wife teams need apply. The draw? Fame, fortune, glory, and the possibility of unlimited power. Dr. Konrad compared it to being the first man to walk on the moon.”

  He shakes his head and takes another drink. The face he makes is tortured, and I recognize the expression as the same one he wore the night he confronted me on the balcony of Stuart Manor. I sense that he wishes he was drinking something stronger than root beer.

  “He interviewed hundreds of military personnel and selected the best and the brightest. Four couples. None questioned why Konrad only wanted married couples. It made sense. We were going underground, disappearing off the face of the earth for an indefinite number of years. They wanted us to be stable.

  “We were injected with the retrovirus in August, after a series of animal tests. At first, nothing. After a month, I could power my phone. In six months, I could turn the lights on and keep them on with nothing but my mind. After a year—it took a year for us to peak—it was amazing. Not only could we power the test devices, we could shoot lightning from our hands and create heat. But the part that blew everyone’s mind was that we could pull electricity from a source.”

  I clear my throat. “Why was that such a big deal?”

  “Because for the first time, Pierce and Konrad viewed us not as test subjects for a retrovirus that would someday be used on the rest of the population, but as weapons. We were able to drain a power supply with nothing but our two hands. Any battery, any power source, our elite force could dismantle in a heartbeat."

  “Why would the Greens want you to drain a power source?”

  David licks his lips and knots his fingers together on the table. “Our currency is based on units of energy, which means the value of things increases when energy is scarce. It’s good for our economy for CGEF to control the amount of energy available to the public.” The way David says it sounds like rote memorization. “So that’s how they used us. For a while, we were the most celebrated secret agents in history.”

  “For a while?”

  David’s face darkens. “Tragedy. Two pregnancies. You and Korwin.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand. Why is that a tragedy?”

  “When the Fawns and the Villaneuvos found out they were expecting, Konrad was skeptical the babies could be carried to term. But when the pregnancies advanced normally, it posed a problem for the study.”

  “Why would a pregnancy be a problem?”

  “No one knew what you would be. A monster? A cripple? Pierce and Konrad ordered that as soon as you were born you were to be contained for tests, until he knew what we were dealing with. If you were found to be dangerous…” David’s face sags.

  I tuck my hair behind my ear. “He planned to kill us.”

  David nods.

  “Is that why my parents escaped? To save me?”

  “Yes, and it cost them their lives. They couldn’t survive outside of the study. Our cells.” His hand pats his chest. “My cells are unstable. Around a year into the experiment, we noticed the symptoms. Any energy output would result in electroscurvy.” He shakes his head. “We were constantly covered in sores. Luckily, Konrad invented a formula to stabilize our chemistry. With a shot a day, I’m as healthy as you or Korwin, but I need that shot, Lydia, or I will effectively starve to death.”

  When he says it, the air between us thickens with tension. “Konrad keeps you alive,” I say in barely a whisper.

  He nods slightly. “When your parents escaped, they knew it was a death sentence. I’ve heard they lasted only a couple of weeks without Konrad’s formula.”

  I press my fingers into my lips. My parents, two people I never knew, sacrificed themselves for me. I’m overwhelmed. Lowering my hand, I ask the obvious question. “Why are you telling me all of this now?”

  David sits up straighter. “Because you’re grown, and you’re powerful. We need your cooperation. We can resurrect the team. You don’t know how amazing you and Korwin are. Your cells are completely stable.” David places his hand over my wrist and squeezes, staring into my eyes with brutal intensity. “You are stronger than any of us.”

  My wrist tingles. I’m not sure why, but a strong feeling tells me to focus on this message: You are stronger than any of us. I tilt my head to the side. I don’t understand.

  “Do you still have your power?” I ask.

  David extends his hand and it bursts into blue flame. “As long as I have the formula, I’m a Spark.” I blink, and he extinguishes it. “We can be a team again, Lydia. You can follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “And just like my mother, I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  He reaches across the table and rests a hand on my upper arm. “What other choice could there be? You are what you are. Embrace it. Your cooperation will be generously rewarded.”

  The phrase sounds practiced, and I feel the tug again. I know this. It’s similar to when I’m with Korwin. David’s cells are enough like mine that we connect too, though not as powerfully and in a different way. Why didn’t I notice it before at the mansion? But then, I can’t remember David ever touching me. That’s when my connection with Korwin is the most noticeable. I had so much anxiety at the mansion anyway, it’s possible it was there all along and I didn’t see it for what it was. I feel it now though, strong and focused. He’s not telling me everything.

  “I have to go now. Konrad will come get you in the morning to run some tests. Afterward, Natasha and I will begin lessons in basic hand-to-hand combat.” He stands, gathering the folder into his arms, and moves toward the door.

  “Who’s Natasha?” I ask.

  He points at the picture he’s left on the table. “My wife.”

  And then he’s gone. The door clicks closed and locks behind him.

  I stare at my parents until my eyes burn. I know David left this picture to convince me to cooperate with the Green Republic, as if cooperating will make my parents proud. But all I can think, as I search their faces, is that my parents died to save me from this.

  24

  Head throbbing, I break from my endless cycle of dead-end thoughts and decide to take a bath. I ache to shed my clothes, as if I can shed my uncertainty with them. The only items in the closet are exercise clothes, stretchy pants, and shirts labeled to shed sweat. I snag a gray set and find the bathroom. The controls are similar to the ones at the Stuarts’. I fill the tub with water, as hot as I can stand it, and slip in, one inch at a time, closing my eyes and leaning my neck against the cold porcelain. “Lord, help me,” I pray aloud.

  “Lydia,” comes a muffled voice. “Is that you?”

  I sit up, splashing water over the edge of the tub. “Jeremiah?”

  “I’m here. We’re locked in the apartment next door.”

  I press my hands against the tiled wall. “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?”

  “We’re fine. Your father is here with me. He’s fine too. And you?”

  “I’m well.” My voice cracks.

  “You don’t sound well.”

  I press my forehead against the tile and begin to weep. Great gulps of air enter my throat in noisy rattles.

  “Stay there. I have an idea,” he says. Minutes tick by. Then I hear footsteps.

  “Jeremiah?” I say toward the tile.

  “There’s a door, Lydia. I think our suites are connected. It’s locked, but I bet you could open it.”

  I push myself to my feet and wrap the white robe from the hook around my body. Following Jeremiah’s knocks and whispers, I find the door to the left of the kitchen. It isn’t hidden in any way but it doesn’
t even have a knob, just a Biolock. I have a nagging suspicion I’m meant to find it. Why else would they have me next door?

  “I’m going to try to open it, but it might not work. They told me the front door is wired to drain off energy if you don’t have the bio-key.”

  “Will it hurt you if it does?” Jeremiah asks.

  “I don’t know for sure.”

  “Then wait—”

  A tiny pulse of electricity from my hand opens the mechanism. On the other side, Jeremiah smiles at me from an apartment very much like the one I am in. Behind him, my father rests in a recliner. I can’t stop the tears.

  “I guess it wasn’t that kind of lock,” I say. I throw my arms around Jeremiah’s neck and kiss his cheek hard enough to nearly leave a bruise. Then I hurry to my father’s side.

  “Dad, are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I rub his hand between my own.

  “Not yet.” The corners of his mouth tug down.

  Jeremiah takes the seat next to me. “They don’t believe us about where we’re from.”

  “You mean Hem—”

  My father hugs me, forcing my mouth into his shoulder.

  Jeremiah moves closer. “They questioned us for an hour. Of course, we told them the truth—that we came from Willow’s Province.”

  I notice my father’s eyes dart up to the light fixture. They’re watching us. That’s what David was trying to tell me. “Of course. What else would you say?”

  “But you see, they’re checking with Willow’s Province local government because they can’t believe you grew up there and they never knew about you,” Jeremiah adds.

  “They’re angry that your abilities weren’t reported immediately,” my father says. “I explained to them that your talents didn’t blossom until this year, but they found that hard to believe.”

  “Oh. I’m sure the Willow’s Province government will clear everything up,” I say confidently, but inside I’m a mess. If they dig too deep, we are doomed.

  “Of course,” Jeremiah says. He rubs his forehead as if he’s in pain.

  The Green Republic must never know where we’re really from. What will become of us if they find out our identities are manufactured? We cannot allow them to point the finger at Hemlock Hollow. Our way of life is dependent on the English underestimating us and believing we stay where we’re put. We are like prehistoric creatures, preserved for posterity, kept neatly out of everyday life. Our secret, that we come and go as we please, can never be revealed. It would change everything.

  I straighten. “Where are Korwin and Mr. Stuart?”

  “They separated us,” my father says. “Mr. Stuart has a history. I think it’s best we distance ourselves.” He rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

  “The Green Republic knows I spent time with Mr. Stuart. Our agreement is that if I cooperate, no one gets hurt. That includes Mr. Stuart. I don’t care what he’s done—he’s part of the agreement.” My voice is loud and firm. I want them to hear me. I hope that they’re watching.

  A strange brew of emotions stirs inside me. I have no love for Maxwell Stuart, not after his forced admission, but he matters for Korwin’s sake. Pierce is likely holding them together and I am angry they are unaccounted for. For all I know, both are still in the cell in the clinic.

  For the time being, I’ve earned a comfortable space for my father and Jeremiah. Deep inside though, I know I’ve made a deal with the devil. Konrad and Pierce will want more and more of me. I’m so deep inside the lie that I am Lydia Lane from Willow’s Province, I can hardly remember all of the truth. What will it do to me, living this double life? What will it do to my soul? My soul—already compromised by violence, disloyalty, and deceit. I am filthy with sin.

  I pace the small living room between my father who holds his head in his hands and Jeremiah who watches me, looking lost and bitter. We remain silent, fearful of who might be watching.

  “Did you say something?” I ask Jeremiah.

  “No,” he says, brows plunging.

  “There’s a mumble. Can you hear that?”

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  I glance at my father and he shakes his head. My skin begins to tingle, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I check the room, eyes darting to every corner. The windows are closed; we are too high up to hear anything anyway. Again, I hear the mumble and feel the tingle even stronger. This time I know what I’m feeling. I cross the apartment and press my ear against the door. Korwin is out there.

  I try the door but it’s locked. Like a caged animal, I beat against it and then attempt to open the door with a pulse of energy. But this lock must be the same as the one in my apartment because it drains me. It’s made of the same stuff as the handcuffs. I double over as it draws my energy until I can break the connection. I pull my hand away, panting.

  All of the air exits my lungs at once. My shoulders sag. I wobble to the sofa and flop down onto it.

  Jeremiah is at my side in a heartbeat. “What was that all about?”

  My father leans toward me in his recliner.

  “Korwin,” I whisper. “I think they just walked him down the hall. I could feel it.”

  Jeremiah’s face falls, and he pulls his head back as if he’s putting distance between us. The way he looks at me, it’s like he’s seeing me for the first time. Like I’m a freak. Maybe I am.

  “There’s something you two need to know about me,” I say. Better to get this out now. There’s no reason to delay. If we ever get out of here, they will have to know why I don’t belong in Hemlock Hollow. I trot into my apartment and retrieve the photo from the table. When I return, I hand it to my father. “Jameson visited today. His real name is David. He’s the one who turned us in.”

  Jeremiah’s eyes grow wide, and he snatches the picture from my father’s hands.

  “He was one of the original eight test subjects in Operation Source Code. One of the original Alpha Eight.” I explain everything, all I know about Operation Source Code, the Alpha Eight, my real parents, and David. My father and Jeremiah listen in stunned silence.

  Finally, my father’s left eye wrinkles in that way it does when he’s thinking hard about something. “You know what I find interesting about your story? Why would Konrad only use married couples if he didn’t want or expect children to be an outcome?”

  “David said Dr. Konrad wanted them to be stable since they wouldn’t have contact with the outside world.”

  “Hmm.” My father winks at me as if he wants me to make a connection, but I am too exhausted. I can hardly think. He rubs his chin. “You know what I find helpful in these situations? A good night’s sleep.” He hobbles over to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Once you can rest and recharge, everything will come together.”

  A person has to be a problem-solver to make it in Hemlock Hollow. We don’t have a store on every corner. If you want something, you have to get it from someone you know or make it yourself. We are dependent on each other and on our heritage, and we trust the wisdom of our past. We have a saying: Be like the teakettle. When it’s up to its neck in hot water, it sings.

  I force myself to smile at my father. “You’re right. Let’s all get some rest.”

  I’m in hot water. Tonight I’ll sleep. Tomorrow, it will be time to sing.

  25

  “Lydia, I’m not going to call security or cuff you today. You won’t disappoint me, will you?”

  “No,” I tell Dr. Konrad. “I won’t.”

  “Good girl.”

  To be sure, a Green ushered me from my apartment to this private dining room in cuffs, but I’m free now and have no intention of causing trouble. How can I risk it? Everyone I love is locked in separate rooms in this building. Dr. Konrad could have them all killed with a snap of his fingers. I know he would do it. I have no choice but to cooperate.

  David and Konrad sit across the table from me, a heaping plate of ham, eggs, and fried potatoes in front of each of us.

  �
��It’s really important you eat it all,” David says. “You’ll need your strength for the tests.”

  I cut a slice of ham and force myself to eat it. It tastes like rubber. One of the things I miss most about home is the taste of meat. When Korwin told me chicken was created in a lab, that it was never actually alive, I didn’t think much of it. But now, I remember his explanation. This meat is a cell from a pig that was coaxed into being a ham without ever being a pig. On one hand, I can see where it is the compassionate choice. Nothing has to die for me to eat. I’ve helped slaughter enough pigs to know the task is gruesome for everyone involved.

  But the taste isn’t the same. Not even close.

  I force myself to swallow. “Is that why you practically force-fed Korwin and me at the mansion, David? To fatten us up for testing?”

  He smiles. “Using your abilities burns a lot of calories. We want to keep you healthy. We want what’s best for you.”

  I doubt it. Just like Maxwell Stuart, they want me to trust them so that I’ll be forthright and show them what I can do.

  When I think of Maxwell, it dawns on me that I no longer have any concern for the failure of his planned revolution. I don’t care about politics or Maxwell’s war. I loathe his methods as much as the Green Republic’s. What I do care about is being free. I want my family and friends back. I want my life back. Right now, the doorway to both of those things seems to be through Dr. Konrad. I decide to play his game until I can win my own.

  Once my plate is empty, I ask, “What now?”

  “Now, if you will follow me to the lab, we’ll get started,” Konrad says.

  David pushes his chair back from the table. “I’ll see you after lunch for some additional training based on the results.”

  Konrad leads me to the elevator. We descend to the clinic and then come to a room that, from the outside, looks eerily similar to Test Room A in the manor. I roll my eyes. Not again. Has my life been reduced to a series of white insulated rooms? I feel more like a guinea pig than ever.