Royal Replicas 2: Royal Captives

by Michael Pierce

  The room below soon became quiet. So, a secret passageway had eluded me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was nevertheless, thinking I’d done a thorough job of searching the room.

  I carefully removed the ceiling tile and peered down into the room. They didn’t seem to have left anyone behind. The room was empty.

  As I was about to climb down, a cold drop of water dripped onto my head, passed through my hair, and rolled down my cheek like a tear. I gazed up to see where the water had come from. With the light from the room below, I saw another tile directly above. I assumed it was part of the floor from the level above—Sub-level 1.

  I steadied myself on the wooden beam and pushed at the tile above me. It creaked open, as if on hinges, and then bumped against something, not allowing it to open any further. I held it open as far as it would go and peered into the dark room above. The hum and crackle of machinery sang like a soft lullaby. I could see the edge of a metal frame and a wheel, like a cart or mobile bed, was positioned over the trap door. Reaching in, I could just barely touch the frame, and could not gather enough leverage to move it by any significant amount.

  So, I moved my attention to the hinged side of the trap door. The screws going into the bracings above were loose, and with a little persuasion, they tore free. I set it aside on the floor, where I now noticed a rug that had probably been covering the door. Now, I was able to push the cart or bed with relative ease, until there was enough room for me to climb up.

  Chirping machinery against multiple walls provided the only light in the room—though not enough to adequately see. Feeling around with my hands, what I’d rolled aside was a bed. I saw the outline of the door from lights in the corridor beyond, so I stumbled in that direction, searching for a light switch.

  When the light crackled to life, a chill swept through me as I realized what I was seeing. Three sets of medical machinery. Three beds. And three bodies hidden beneath white sheets.

  I walked up to the closest bed and pulled the sheet down to see who lay beneath. Who I discovered left me speechless and—for the briefest of moments—I thought I was having an out of body experience, gazing down at my own corpse. But I wasn’t dead, and neither was the girl lying in the bed. Danielle; she was breathing, though just barely. Wires connected her to the nearest machine.

  I gazed out at the other two beds and knew who was lying beneath the sheets in each one—Jane and Eleanor. They were still alive.

  36

  Byron

  The Queen’s Assistant, the little ball of energy, Tabatha Dorsey, cornered me before I could find Bethany. She told me she’d tried calling me earlier, but I didn’t pick up—probably because Kale had my primary phone. I apologized but didn’t offer a new number.

  I was being summoned to the Queen’s private office and conference room, also commonly referred to as her counsel room. The conference room was circular with a domed ceiling and concealed light panels; it was painted the blue of the afternoon sky with intermittent clouds. In the center of the room was a circular, heavy wooden table with a speakerphone centerpiece. A projector was recessed into one wall, illuminating a computer screen opposite it.

  Queen Dorothea’s security and military counsel were present, Xander Quinn and Brock Johns, as well as her public relations advisor, Janelle Stevens, and Dr. Crane.

  “Are you sure you want to take this kind of action on Foundation Day?” asked Janelle.

  “I refuse to wait any longer,” Queen Dorothea said. “That girl has tried all the patience I have left. The safety of our Kingdom has to come first.” Then she noticed I’d arrived and gave me an exasperated expression. “Oh good, you’re here. We can finally officially get started.”

  “Sorry; I just got word,” I said, taking position between Brock and Janelle. “Why is he here?” I asked, gesturing to Dr. Crane.

  “Anything concerning one or more of my girls concerns me,” he said.

  “And he always provides good counsel,” the Queen added.

  Some of the doctors, especially Dr. Crane, had become not just doctors for the girls, but added advisors for more and more matters concerning all aspects of the Kingdom.

  Most of the chairs were pushed away from the table. Sprawled out on the table top was a map of Easteria and the surrounding Outlands. Beside it lay a copy of an old map of the Western United States. I glanced at the projection on the wall, currently displaying desert satellite footage, broken up into little squares—each bearing different views.

  “Queen Hart says you came in and out through the 24th,” Xander said.

  “That’s correct,” I said. “Through Gate 3.”

  “And around there is where the breach is? I’ve yet to be notified of exactly where.”

  With Christine on the surveillance unit, she had been tasked with covering up the breach and I could just play dumb as to its exact location. So far, it seemed she’d done a good job.

  “I’m confident they’re getting in and out through the 24th border, but I couldn’t tell you which stretch of fence is the culprit.”

  “That’s a fifty-mile stretch.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I said, trying to sound offended by his accusation of withholding information.

  “Once their camp is destroyed, it won’t matter how they’re passing through the border unseen,” the Queen said.

  “But the breach will remain,” Xander said.

  “But the people using it will not. Afterward, we can focus our attention on the breach.”

  “What landmarks did you notice out there? How long were you driving?” Brock asked.

  “It was desert,” I said sarcastically. “There were hills of rock. Much of the drive was on Route 15. The secondary roads no longer have any markings.”

  “And how long would you say you were driving on the other roads?” Brock ran his finger along Route 15 on the United States map. “I know most of these exits and roads are gone now. The communities along the highway are not much more than dirt.”

  “Yes; there’s not much out there,” I said. “I don’t know. I was on heavy medication. Perhaps a half hour—maybe upward of an hour.

  “If we can pinpoint where you got on Route 15, then we can make an hour’s radius from there. Look closely; does anything stand out to you? Take a look at the screen. Anything there jogging your memory?”

  “Take your time,” the Queen said. “You may not think you remember, but deep down, you do—your body does.”

  I started with the map, running my eyes along Route 15, from Riverside to Las Vegas. Even with the state I was in when we drove from Kale’s camp, I saw exactly where we reached the 15, and from there I backtracked and found the general vicinity of the camp. I had to be careful not to let the recognition show on my face and moved on to where I would send them.

  “You stopped on a specific area,” Brock said. “Something caught your attention.”

  “Possibly,” I said, diverting my eyes from the map, catching the Queen’s gaze. “I’m just trying to make sense of this.”

  “Tell me where and I’ll bring it up on the screen.” Brock began typing on the keyboard and the multitude of pictures disappeared, replaced by one large terrain map.

  Before I could answer, the door burst open and Tabatha entered apologetically. “Your Highness, I regret to disrupt your meeting, but I just received urgent news. I needed to inform you immediately.”

  “What is it?” the Queen asked, not sounding terribly concerned, probably expecting some mishap with the Foundation Day preparations.

  But, seeing the horror on Tabatha’s face, I feared what she was about to share and wished I could be anywhere else at that moment.

  Tabatha took the Queen aside and whispered the message in her ear.

  The Queen’s expression darkened, her complexion ashen by the time Tabatha was done. Tabatha took a step back, waiting for direction while the Queen digested the news.

  When Queen Dorothea spoke next, there was great pain in her voice. “Janelle, you
’re leaving with Tabatha.”

  The Queen looked so deeply disturbed, Janelle did not question the order and left the conference room.

  “Have him meet me at the southwest staircase. I’ll be there shortly. And close the door behind you,” she said to Tabatha, who bowed and exited.

  I retained my position at the opposite side of the table from the Queen, wanting to keep ample distance between us.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Brock asked.

  “Your Highness, what news did you receive? It’s certainly vexed you,” Dr. Crane said.

  “Prince Byron, would you be able to enlighten us?” the Queen asked.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea what Tabatha told you.” I met her gaze with the same intensity and certainty she gave me, careful not to show any of the insecurity that really plagued me. All eyes were now on me.

  “Your Highness, please tell us what has happened,” Xander said. “And how can we help?”

  “My daughter is gone,” she said, her eyes never leaving mine.

  “Princess Amelia? But we checked her vitals this morning,” Dr. Crane said, now sounding greatly concerned. She was doing well. I reviewed the report…”

  “Not dead, Dr. Crane,” she said, her voice laced with malice. “Gone. Taken.”

  Dr. Crane’s mouth fell open. He was rendered momentarily speechless. “But… But Your Highness, how is that possible?”

  The Queen kept her predatory gaze trained on me. “I don’t know. It seems we have more breaches than we thought.” Then she finally turned her attention to Xander. “How is this possible?”

  “I—I don’t know, but I will get to the bottom of it immediately. I will make some calls and—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Queen Dorothea said. “Since, as of now, you are relieved of your command. You obviously cannot handle the responsibility and the Kingdom is suffering because of it.”

  “My Queen—” Xander pleaded.

  “Brock, take the Executive Director of Security into custody. Do not allow him to talk to anyone,” the Queen commanded. “Can you handle this?”

  But instead of answering right away, he already had his sidearm out and aimed at Xander. “Hand over your weapon.”

  Xander looked crestfallen but complied without protesting. “My Queen, I can assure you…”

  “No, you cannot,” she argued. “Lock him up and gather as many teams as you can to begin the search for my daughter immediately. Shut down every gate. They couldn’t have gotten far. Keep this quiet. Find her. Fail me and you will be next. Is that clear?”

  “Extremely, Your Highness,” Brock said, not needing to be told anything more, and he led Xander out of the conference room in handcuffs.

  Queen Dorothea paced the room, stopping in front of the large wall screen, the projection painting her back.

  “If they smuggle her out of the Kingdom…” She stopped, her head dropping in defeat. “If I discover I cannot trust you and you had some hand in this, then I will not just cut off my support of Easteria, but behead you myself and send it to your parents.” Then she turned back to the doctor and me, still standing around the table.

  “Dr. Crane, please leave us,” I said. “I’d like a private word with the Queen.”

  “No,” Queen Dorothea said. “He is my special counsel and all things with my daughter and her kin concerns him. I trust him wholeheartedly, which is more than I can say for you right now.” She turned her attention to Dr. Crane. “How many people knew which room she was moved to?”

  “Fewer than a handful,” Dr. Crane said, and turned to me. “Did you know?”

  “I didn’t know where she was before, let alone where she’d been moved to,” I said.

  “You knew where she was previously,” the Queen scoffed. “Don’t deny it. I always require transparency, but now more than ever.”

  I took a deep breath. “I found an empty room based on cryptic directions Victoria had given Bethany before the Choosing Ceremony. Even Victoria had not directly told anyone—where or how she’d found the Princess.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Queen Dorothea said.

  “She was as skeptical and secretive as the lot of us,” I said.

  “She was the one who stole Dr. Sosin’s tablet,” Dr. Crane said. “We didn’t realize it at the time and we wiped it of all sensitive material, but it still goes to show how little she could and can be trusted.”

  “It seems we’ve all been sloppy,” the Queen said. “And now my daughter’s gone. They have her and I don’t even know exactly who they are. Who are Kale and his group, and what is it they really want?”

  Even though she didn’t say it, the question was primarily directed at me since I was the one who’d spent time in their camp. “I don’t know,” I said. “To gain whatever advantage they can over you, I’d think. It’s obviously a power play to get something from you.”

  “Obviously; but what?”

  I shook my head. “Much of the time I was conscious, I was alone.”

  Queen Dorothea stepped around the table and stopped before me, slapping me across the face before I even had a moment to react. “I believe you know more than you’re divulging,” she said. “Think long and hard about the information you withhold. Is it worth it?”

  “I’m not, Your Highness,” I said, tasting blood from the slap, my face pounding from the combination of her slap and the punch I’d received earlier from Mackenzie—the blood probably from a reopening of the previous wound. It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

  “I’ll let you think about it while I visit my daughter’s room. I need to see it for myself.”

  “I can accom—”

  “I do not require, nor desire your company,” she said. “I require time to reflect. Stay close, I’ll call upon you. They are not stopping this strike. Doctor, please go check on the other girls. I want to make sure they’re accounted for.”

  “Absolutely, Your Highness,” Dr. Crane said with a bow.

  37

  Victoria

  The three girls sprang up in their beds as if triggered by some unseen master. “We are the future of this great kingdom. We are the future of humanity. Now, and moving forward.”

  They spoke in unison, their eyes still closed, as if stuck in a dream—a nightmare.

  I didn’t know if it was their nightmare or mine. I backed up against the door, not sure what they would do next if they realized I was there—if I was a threat to them.

  They didn’t speak more, but remained seated, staring straight ahead with closed eyelids. Then all three heads turned toward the door—toward me. Though their eyes were still closed, it seemed for all the world like they were staring straight at me.

  “Who invited you?” Jane asked.

  “You’re not authorized to be in this room,” Danielle said.

  “I’m sorry,” I answered, almost so low I wasn’t sure if I’d said it aloud.

  “Get out! Get out! Get out!” They all screamed like a chorus of ghouls, blind eyes burning into me.

  I wanted to say more, to see if they were okay or if there was something I could do to help, but their shrieking forced me to fumble for the doorknob and bolt from the room.

  Once in the hallway, I collapsed against the closed door and cried. The girls I’d thought were dead were miraculously alive, but something was still very wrong. I had no idea what and wasn’t going to get any answers now.

  I needed to get out of the sub-levels and figure out where I could hide until I could devise my next move. I needed confirmation that Frank had the Princess, and of when he would get here to accompany me in confronting the Queen—if in fact, he would still be doing that. Maybe it had all been a ploy just to get the Princess, and now he was done with me. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but couldn’t rule out this outcome.

  This corridor was quiet and I needed to move before I was discovered. I glanced back at the door and noticed a keyed deadbolt. I hadn’t locked the door from within and wasn’t goi
ng to open it again. The protests from inside had quieted. I hoped they wouldn’t remember any of this.

  I quickly made my way down the corridor, and after a number of failed turns finally found a staircase to the main living space of the palace. I scampered up the steps and peeked through the closed door at the top to ensure I could emerge without being spotted.

  As soon as I determined the coast was clear, I tiptoed down the new hallway, a wing of the palace I had never ventured through before. I slipped past a few maids and miscellaneous staff members until one stopped me cold. The voluptuous blonde, even though she no longer had blue and purple streaks in her hair, was unmistakable. She had a duster in hand, making sure each portrait along the wall was perfect.

  “Excuse me,” she said, curtseying like any other properly trained palace staff member.

  “My fault,” I said, staring at her like the ghost she was. I knew I should run before she did anything rash. Instead, I simply said, “I should be more careful.”

  Why was she here? Had I put her in this position? If she hated me before, God only knew what she thought of me now.

  “Victoria?” Johanna asked. “Is that you?”

  I could tell she was out of her element and questioning everything about her new reality—so even though she’d known me since birth, and knew me as much as anyone in my life, she couldn’t be certain now. Her new role would cause her to question everything.

  “No; Victoria’s gone. If the Queen has anything to say about it—which she does—she’ll never set foot in the palace again,” I said, trying my best to sound convincing. “My name’s Bethany.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Johanna said. As such a strong and confident personality in the Ramsey estate—ready to take over the 24th Ward after her parents—until today, I had never imagined her in such a downtrodden state. “You two look so much alike. I know and all, but knowing is different than seeing for yourself.”

  I tried to think what Bethany would say. “How do you know Victoria? Are you from her ward?”