by Ann Bakshis
Sanar: a binding agent to prevent injury or damage at the cellular level. To be solely used on the next generation of Antaeans. Creator: Eunice Cecilia Pike.
“Trea’s mother,” I say quietly to myself.
I think back to the last couple of days. I haven’t seen Trea get injured by any Levin blasts. The Quantum mortar should have killed both of us, but she managed to put a shield around us.
Is this why Vladim wants the Antaeans?
But that can’t be accurate. Vier and Lehen have both been severely injured by both weapons.
Is it just Trea? Was she exposed to the Sanar? It would explain what happened back in Acheron. But what’s the next generation? Were they planning on creating a more lethal Antaean?
I scroll down the screen and select a tag named “Formula”, but the data has been erased. The file has a deletion date of 22 December year 174 by ECP.
Why would Eunice delete the file?
I scroll back up, tap on her name, and I’m directed to another list of files. I select one record at a time, starting with the one named “Personnel”.
I find out that Eunice Pike was the head researcher for medical development up until one year before the fire. She was moved over to conditioning, after being demoted to a level five instructor. She’d been at the Dormitories since their inception, so it doesn’t make any sense why she would’ve been sent from such a high position down to the lowest one.
Maybe the directors of the Dormitories realized what she’d done with the formula. But that act of sabotage would’ve landed her in a cell at the Reformatory to be sentenced to death, not demoted.
I scroll down, reviewing her entire history. Eunice was born from Hatchery Four in Tyre. She showed significant aptitude for math and science, so she was trained to be a researcher at the Dyson Lab in the southern section of the Tyrean territory. She began there at the age of thirteen, and was moved to the Dormitories at twenty, right after they were built. She was promoted quickly, becoming the head of research at twenty-five. A few years later, she began to have severe medical problems. I tap on her medical file.
Patient: Eunice C Pike.
Date of admission: 8 April year 170
Diagnosis: Massive cellular breakdown of the ovaries and uterus due to severe Quarum exposure.
Procedure: Complete removal of organs. Preservation of all eggs is directed. Eggs impregnated with sperm donated by Mathew Hart and Jonathan Devlan ten minutes after removal. Moved to storage for later use.
Treatment: Dialysis until Quarum has been eliminated.
I go back to the main screen and choose “Antaean Class”, then a sub-folder labeled “Genealogy”. I locate Trea’s lineage. Her father is Mathew. I pull up a search bar at the bottom, type in Devlan’s name, and one record pops up: “Series 70, Batch 1”. I select the batch and am greeted with ten sets of numbers, but only one has a name next to it. I get up, taking the tablet with me, and wake Caitrin.
“What is it?” she grumbles, rubbing her eyes.
“The three embryos you rescued from the Dormitories, did they have labels on them?”
“Yes. Each tube had a specialized sequence of numbers. We matched them with the information we downloaded from the server. As each child was born, we added their names next to the numbers in the file. Why?”
“Did anyone actually review all these files?”
“If anyone did, it would’ve been Holunder. He’s the only one to have studied the information we gathered.”
“Why, Braxton, what’s up?” Lehen says sleepily from his section of the back corner
“Trea has a sibling.”
CHAPTER 24
Trea
My muscles ache. In fact, every inch of my body hurts in some form. I can barely move. As I open my eyes, I notice cinderblock walls around me, with an iron-gated door to my right. I’m lying on my side, with my wrists and ankles shackled to the steel bench I’m on. Red beams cascade over me, presumably from the wall behind me. The beams hurt if I touch them. My skin isn’t harmed, but the pain radiates through every nerve and muscle. I slink back as much as the chains will allow, so I’m out of the beams’ arc.
The pain subsides, but I’m now uncomfortably crammed into the back of the bench. I attempt to look around the room, but my vision is limited. I try to work on freeing the restraints, but moving them even just an inch exposes me to the beams. My hands are bent in such a way that I can’t apply the Quantum Stream. The room is stuffy, too, which is causing a headache to begin.
What have I gotten myself into? Why don’t I ever listen to Braxton?
I hear hinges squeak followed by a series of footsteps. Vladim steps inside along with Caderyn.
“You’re such a problem, Trea,” Vladim says, walking up to me. “If you weren’t so valuable, I wouldn’t go through the trouble of keeping you alive.”
“Go to hell,” I respond.
Caderyn steps to a small panel on the wall by my head, swipes across the screen, and the beams collapse onto me. I scream from the pain, which seems to last forever. He finally taps on the screen again and the beams retract.
“As you’ve seen, a new weapon has been developed by my researchers. Used on anyone else, they electrify from the inside out, but used on an Antaean, merely has the capacity of subduing them. And of course causing excruciating pain in the process. It’s called a Cruor Burst. Now,” Vladim says, bending down over me, “are you going to cooperate or do we need to subject you to the Cruor again?”
I actually cower. Something I haven’t done since I was very young. “I’ll cooperate.”
Caderyn unlocks me, but secures a set of binders around my wrists that are electronically attached to a small device he’s holding. I look down, noticing several red bands imbedded into the metal of the binders. Walking down the narrow hall, there are similar cells spaced evenly apart.
“Trea,” a young voice whimpers from a door next to the stairs we’re approaching.
I look over and see Grainne, her face pressed against the bars. I try to go to here, but Caderyn hits a button on the device and I’m instantly subdued by the Cruor Burst from the binders that encircle my wrists. I try to hold my mouth shut as pain radiates everywhere, but I can’t keep it closed and I scream. Grainne cringes from the sound and begins to cry. She steps back into her room and out of sight. I collapse to the ground, tears streaming down my face. The pain finally stops and Caderyn pulls me to my feet.
We go up several flights before reaching the main level. Vladim opens the first door we come to, and Caderyn shoves me inside. I’m made to sit on the only chair in the room, a metal seat placed in the center. My ankles are shackled to the floor while a restraint is wrapped around my waist, and secured to the back of the chair. The binders are removed, but my hands aren’t free, they’re fastened to the chair’s arms.
Vladim and Caderyn leave once I’m situated. The light in the room is almost blinding. I have to squint to see. The room is caked in blood spatter, vomit, and other stomach-turning excrement. The smell is excruciating. I have to breathe through my mouth, though I can still taste the air. I look up, noticing various wires and metal implements dangling down. The tiles on the floor are gray and indent slightly by the chair, probably due to a drain. In front of me is a picture window with a monitor of the same size next to it.
A light comes on in the room opposite the window. Vladim, Caderyn, and another man enter, sit down at a control panel, and the monitor to the right of the window turns on, showing Grainne in her cell, chained to her cot.
“Trea,” Vladim starts, “do you know this girl?”
I nod.
“Who is she?”
“You already know,” I whisper.
A sonic wave hits me, emitted from tiny spouts in the walls around me. My muscles spasm, then stop.
“Is she an Antaean?”
I nod.
“But she’s not a full Antaean, is she?”
I shake my head.
“Where did she come from?�
�
“I don’t know,” I lie.
Another wave hits. This one more intense.
I begin to sweat. The temperature of the room has increased significantly. Thirst takes over. I drop my head down to my chest, too exhausted to continue.
“Trea…Trea!” Grainne screams from the overhead monitor.
I lift my chin.
“I know she was being kept at Tartarus like the other two,” Vladim says calmly. “How did the Hostem get a hold of my Antaeans?”
“Dormitories,” I whimper. “From the Dormitories.”
“Are there any more like her?”
I shake my head.
Not anymore. Not since Piran died.
Vladim and Caderyn converse quietly for a few minutes. I keep my attention focused on Grainne.
I’m scared for her.
“Trea,” Vladim begins, “your markings have changed since I last saw you. I would like my medical team to evaluate you. Will you allow them to?”
“No!” I scream with all my might.
The next set of screams is coming from the monitor. A Cruor Burst has hit Grainne. She shrieks from the pain that envelops her body.
“Stop!” I shout. “I’ll let them, just don’t hurt Grainne.”
The burst is turned off, as is the monitor.
“Very good. Dr. Hersher will be in shortly to escort you upstairs.”
The lights are shut off behind the window. I hang my head back down and cry.
Why? Why did I come here? Vladim has always been in control of everything. Why did I believe I could stop him?
Minutes pass like hours before the door finally opens and a familiar face — one I’ve grown to detest — enters. Dr. Hersher walks in with several medics. I’m unhooked from the chair, laid on a stretcher, and tied down. We leave the cell, go down the hall to a lift, and go one floor up. The sign just outside the lift door says “Research and Development”. I’m taken down the hall to a sterile room. Two women in protective gear lift me from the stretcher after I’ve been freed, walk me into a shower stall in the center of the room, strip me of my clothes, and begin to scrub my skin raw while water pours down from a faucet in the ceiling.
Dr. Hersher walks around the glassed enclosed stall, watching me. I stare back at him, following him with my eyes as he studies the new lines covering my body. Once I’m clean and dried, I’m given an army uniform. Black polyester pants, thick black leather boots, a dark green tank top, and a matching leather, form fitting jacket cut at the waist with, long sleeves. Stitched into the upper sleeve of the jacket are two intersecting squares with flames radiating from the top.
Dr. Hersher doesn’t have me wear the jacket, but instead places it on a chair next to his workstation. He gestures for me to follow him to the other end of the room, where I’m made to stand in the middle of a body scan machine. He instructs me to raise my arms above my head. It only takes a few seconds for the scan, then I step out and sit on a stool next to the monitor displaying the scan results.
“How did this happen?” Dr. Hersher asks, flipping between pictures.
“I don’t know, exactly.” Which is the truth. I don’t know.
“Amazing,” he says, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “It’s almost like your body is creating more of the Quantum Stream than the originally mapped-out amount.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Quantum Stream was placed in the arms and legs, nowhere else. But yours…it has taken on a life of its own. It’s flowing around your heart and several ribs like a shield. And the stream on your back has melded with your spinal column. I’d say it was almost as if you were given an accelerant. Some kind of catalyst that the other Antaeans were never given.”
The Final Stage. It has to be.
“Is it harmful?”
“No, my dear, but it is quite an unexpected surprise. I’ll need to advise Vladim immediately.”
He steps away, replaced by a guard so I don’t try to escape. Vladim is on the floor in minutes, practically running in my direction.
“Why was this not noticed before, Doctor?” Vladim asks, anger in his voice.
“It hadn’t been activated. Apparently it needed a catalyst. A very violent one.”
“Still, all those test you ran on her months ago should’ve picked up this anomaly.”
They stand over the images, jockeying for position.
“Is there a way to test and be sure?” Vladim asks, regaining his composure.
“I don’t believe so. We never had the opportunity to administer the Sanar, so why would we test for it?”
“Pull up her medical history.”
“I…I don’t have it in this system.”
“Fine,” Vladim growls. “I’ll go up to my suite and locate the information. Take Trea over to the Praetorian sector. Secure a place for her in the critical ward of the hospital floor in the hall.”
Vladim hurries to the lift. Once it returns, I’m handed my jacket, which I put on, and am escorted down to the main floor by three Regulators and Caderyn. We exit through a set of mechanical doors, walk down a road straight to a set of four buildings surrounding a courtyard. No one is outside on this warm sunny day, which makes me wonder where everyone is.
The first building we pass is three stories high, made out of dark gray bricks, with a large emblem displayed on the façade. The symbol is of a long sword with a short hilt thrusting skyward through a moon with wings. I look to my left and see an identical building, only the emblem on this one is the same as on my jacket. We go past the courtyard and enter the last building on our right. No emblem on this one.
Next to the door is a set of stairs going up. We pass those and step into a small entryway. We get inside the lift, and ascend to the third floor. We step off and turn right. One of the Regulators places his palm on a pad next to the door. Once access is granted, the door slides open. The room is bright white. A nurse’s station sits in the center, surrounded by individual rooms all with a single bed, a monitor, and each completely encased in glass.
One of the nurses pushes a button in front of her, opening a door of the room on our left. I’m hastily pushed inside and locked in. I touch the glass and receive a painful shock. Taking a closer look, I notice the glass is several inches thick, so even if I managed to tolerate the shock, the Quantum Stream would never be able to vibrate it hard enough to crack. I look up and see the Regulators talking to the nurses, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. After a few minutes they leave and the nurses begin tending to their patients. At least half the rooms are full of wounded children, some critically.
More Keons, or is this where the Tyrean Army starts?
I sit on the bed and observe my surroundings. There are a total of four nurses in our area at all times, except when there is a rotation change, when only two are present. Hours slowly tick by. One of the patients has expired from her injuries. Our walls turn black, preventing us from seeing her removal. After ten minutes, the glass returns to normal as the girl’s room is stripped down, thoroughly cleaned, and the bed made.
How can a society treat children as throw-aways? Grainne would’ve had a chance at having a childhood being in Tartarus. Here, children are just objects, things to be manipulated and controlled. If they don’t measure up, they’re discarded. What would’ve happened to me if the Dormitories were never destroyed? Would I be like the others? Would I have grown up with the same mentality of everyone else in Sirain? It’s not just Vladim I need to stop, it’s the way this country thinks that needs to change. People just can’t be disposed of so easily.
Food is delivered just as the sun begins to set. A slat by my door opens, and a young nurse slides in a covered meal tray. I wait till she steps away before getting down from my perch and picking up the tray. I sit back on the bed, lay the tray next to me, and remove the cover.
The garlic from the mashed potatoes hits my nose first. A freshly backed roll rests on top of corn and next to a thick slab of beef. Utensils are hidden un
der a cloth napkin. A tumbler of ice-cold water sits in the center of the tray. I eat slowly, trying to savor the taste. I’m so hungry, I eat every last bite, almost licking the tray clean. The nurse comes back around to collect the trays. She motions for me to slide it back through the slat, which I do, with the exception of the utensils that are carefully tucked under my pillow.
“Everything needs to be returned, Trea, even your eating utensils,” the nurse says through the speaker by the door. “Remove them from under your pillow, or I will have security do it for you.”
I scowl, and pass the items through the slat.
Another hour passes and the lights dim. Those who aren’t unconscious from medication begin to fall asleep. After all that’s happened, I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open for once. I curl up on top of the blankets, but I fight the sleep that is taking over. My head begins to feel light, and I lose the battle, falling asleep before my head hits the pillow.
I awake to a darkened room. Turning my head, I see Vladim standing on the other side of the glass. I notice the other rooms have their walls blackened, and there aren’t any nurses around. He walks over to the nurse’s station, pushes the button that opens my door, and steps inside. I remain on the bed and watch him circle it several times before speaking.
“Your mother was one of my favorite researchers,” he says, stopping at the foot of my bed. “Her death was tragic, as were all those killed at the Dormitories.” He takes a step to the left, positioning himself under the monitor fastened to the ceiling. “She managed to create the greatest gift she could’ve given to our society, but then she went and destroyed it. Good thing I didn’t know about this until after the assault. It would’ve broken my heart to have had to kill her.”
“How did you know what she did?” I ask, my voice sounding like a child’s.
