“Bleh.” She scrunched her face in distaste at the thought of having to wear a dress. “I suppose sacrifices have to be made if we’re saving the human race.”
“I have complete confidence in your abilities,” Jack said.
Then he turned to James. “Your transportation will be by private vehicle to a bus station in Pioche. Take the bus to Vegas. Walk from the depot to the asylum. You start work in the morning. Don’t worry about clothes. The hotel takes care of that.” He reached into a coat pocket and presented James with a handful of bright green wire. “Wear this on one of your wrists at all times.”
James accepted the offering. “Is this some sort of secret communication device?”
“No, it’s a slinky. Wear it as a reminder to keep to your act and as a visual marker to let others know you’re special. Once they meet you, they will think of you as ‘that odd boy with the slinky.’ It’s cheap camouflage to shield you from deeper scrutiny. People will tend to notice the slinky more than the man wearing it.”
As James slipped the slinky over his left wrist, the angular features of his face softened to slackness. “Jack smawt,” he drawled with a dull-witted grin.
CHAPTER 50
Assorted images and video clips flickered in and out on the tabletop display beneath Mykl’s fingers. Delilah was showing him family memories. While he had definitely inherited his eyes from his father, the rest of his features subtly blended both parents’ genes. Delilah even located more images of his mother, which he copied and saved to a file of his own. He was admiring an image of a very young Kyle holding a much less tattered Stinker when Jack returned from his meeting.
“It’s time to evacuate,” Jack said to Delilah.
She nodded and blanked the table. “How long do you have?” she asked.
“Dr. Lee needs another two hours to finish a few things and secure her facility. Then we leave.”
“Wait—where are we going? What about James and Dawn?” Mykl asked in bewilderment.
Jack sat next to Mykl. “We are going someplace safer. James has left with Jessica to assist her with an assignment in Vegas, and Dawn is coming with us.”
“There’s someplace safer than here?” Mykl asked.
“Indeed there is. We would probably be fine staying here, but it’s wise not to leave anything to chance.”
There was still so much Mykl wanted to do and see here. He had just gotten used to the idea that he had a home, and now he had to leave? It was fitting, in a way: he had finally met his father and he had to go away; he had discovered a new James, and now he was gone too. And Jessica. At least Dawn isn’t leaving me. What he wouldn’t give for some stability in his life. No one should have to deal with this much separation anxiety. Two hours!
“May I go out and explore for a little bit?” Mykl asked.
Jack fixed him with a penetrating stare. Mykl tried to blank his mind. With all the alien DNA in the room, the potential for telepathy wasn’t something to trifle with.
“Be back in one hour and forty-five minutes,” Jack said. “You’ll need a few minutes when you get back to suit up. Dear, do we still have Kyle’s old cart?”
“I think it’s in the second level of storage. I’ll get it out for him.”
His curiosity piqued, Mykl followed Delilah outside. She held him back with a cautionary arm when they reached a large rectangular pad near the side of their dwelling. She entered simple commands into a control panel, and the entire pad began to rise. Three doors became visible as it rose higher. It extended even further, exposing another three, before she halted it.
“How many levels are there?” Mykl asked.
“Four so far. I program in more as we need them.”
She opened one of the doors with a tap of her finger. Inside was a scaled-down version of the cart Mykl had appropriated earlier in the morning. Delilah pushed it out and showed him how to adjust the pedals to better fit the length of his legs. The front seat even had safety belts, though the passenger side belt seemed too small even for Mykl. It must have been custom-made for Stinker. As efficient as the setup was, he couldn’t help but think it would make for a sickeningly cute picture if he and Stinker were belted in together.
“I’ll be right back,” Delilah said.
Mykl adjusted himself in his seat and tested the controls. This was going to be a lot more enjoyable than the previous ride.
Delilah returned, and sure enough, she had Stinker with her. She buckled the bear in its seat and said, “There should be enough charge to make a lap around the City if you wish.”
“Thank you, Lahlah,” he said, and he was off. He wasn’t about to stick around for pictures.
The cart’s top speed was less than that of the adult version. That was to be expected. In time, he was sure he could reprogram that, if he really wanted. But right now, he just wanted to see the parts of the City he had missed on his brief tour with Jack.
He started a counterclockwise lap of the City’s outer ring.
Where in the world is everybody? he thought as he cruised through what looked like a residential area. The architecture of the houses made for plenty of privacy if one so chose, but there were no people to need privacy from—and still no children. Larger buildings that might be restaurants or stores also stood vacant. Had everyone already evacuated? And if so, where to?
The tranquil neighborhood felt eerie and creepy. Mykl stopped to feed the fish—and to make sure they hadn’t disappeared too.
With less than thirty minutes left to roam, a thought struck him. In an instant, he ran back to his cart and departed straight for the frozen black tidal wave.
He managed a decent sideways skid to a stop. He unbuckled Stinker and tucked him under an arm for an extra level of protection. One couldn’t be too careful when entering an area housing alien life.
He made his way quickly through the security doors. In the lab that held Noah, he found the tiny white mouse standing on top of a pile of empty pistachio shells. Noah stretched up on skinny back legs until he wobbled for balance. When he recognized Mykl, he exploded into a run, sending shells flying everywhere.
Mykl was perplexed by Noah’s strange behavior. The cage shook as the mouse raced through piles of wood shavings and bounded off miniature toys that blocked its path. He took a flying leap from the far end of the cage to a swing that hung in the middle. His momentum carried him to the side nearest Mykl. As he leapt off the swing, his feet clasped the slick wires running down the cage. Slowly, extending one spindly arm out toward Mykl, the mouse slid to the bottom crossbar.
“What is up with you?” Mykl asked. “Have you been out of pistachios all day?”
The mouse extended its other arm through the wires and made grabbing motions. Not toward Mykl, but toward the creature under his arm. Stinker?
Mykl pulled Stinker up to the cage. Noah held on to the wires and began jumping up and down on the crossbar while trying to squish his face through the stiff vertical wires.
“You want the bear?”
Noah ran to the cage door and pointed at the latch. Mykl unlocked it, then held Stinker’s face at the opening. Noah leapt from the cage onto the bear’s head, then climbed under the right armpit—where it promptly disappeared.
Mykl lifted the bear’s arm. Noah’s nose and whiskers twitched from beyond a tear in the seam.
“You’ve done this before,” said Mykl.
Noah poked his head the rest of the way out and winked.
“Well, I was coming to say goodbye before we left, but I like your idea better.”
Mykl closed the cage and began to leave. A loud, high-pitched squeak stopped him in his tracks. He looked down at Noah, who was waving an arm toward a canister on a nearby table.
“Oh, right,” Mykl said. “Pistachios to go.”
***
“You’re back early,” Delilah said.
“I’d seen enough—and I had to pee.” Mykl made a beeline to his room, hoping no one could hear the pistachios crunching in his bul
ging pockets.
Delilah called after him, “Your flight suit is on your bed, along with a travel duffel. I packed some of your clothes but left space for more items if there’s anything else you want to bring.”
Could she have made this any easier? Mykl carefully laid Stinker on the bed and selected some pairs of socks to stuff nuts into. He looked around; what else was there to bring? Lawrence’s jacket still hung from the back of his chair. That needed to go back to the nice man. The ranger probably needed it more than him.
Mykl picked up the dark blue flight suit and put it on. It had long sleeves and a single zipper all the way down the front—and it was heavy.
“Why is it so heavy?” Mykl asked, walking out in his socks to model the suit for Delilah.
“Oh, that’s a surprise I’m sure you’re going to like,” she said.
If she was going to play that game, he felt a little better about the surprise in his bear. “Okay.” He shrugged and turned to go back to his room, but stopped at the threshold. In his rush to empty his pockets, he had failed to notice a new picture by his door. The wall displayed a candid shot of him and Stinker cruising in the cart. Cute as can be.
A smug chuckle erupted behind him. He grunted in defeat and continued inside to finish packing.
Several minutes later, with Stinker under one arm and the duffel strapped over his shoulder, hanging below his knees, he proclaimed, “Ready when you are.” Then he added, “Oh, I still have Lawrence’s jacket. Can we get it back to him?”
Delilah smiled. “Just leave it in your room.”
“But—”
“We’ll make sure he gets it,” she assured him.
Jack joined them, suited similarly to Mykl. “I think this thing’s shrinking,” he said, tugging at the collar.
“Of course it is, dear,” Delilah said, patting his belly.
Jack planted a hard kiss on his wife, then they stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds. Mykl was certain some sort of telepathy was going on.
Jack reluctantly released her. “Ready to go, Mykl?”
Mykl pointed at Delilah, who wasn’t wearing a special suit. “Lahlah?” he asked with a frown.
“I’m needed here to recalibrate the automated systems controlling the City’s structural integrity. Once that’s done, I’ll be right behind you.” She kneeled and fully enveloped Mykl in a bone-popping hug. She kissed his forehead, then gave him the same long stare she had shared with Jack. Now he understood. Love doesn’t need telepathy.
With a single glance back at his waving grandmother, he took Jack’s hand, and they were off.
Jack explained, as they drove past the road to the portal where Mykl had first entered the City, that they would be taking a different route to their plane. The total travel time by underground tram would be a few minutes longer.
They were first to arrive at the portal, which looked like any other vault door Mykl had encountered during his brief stay in the City.
A much larger cart approached. As it got closer, Mykl recognized Dr. Lee and Tony in the front seat. The rear of the cart contained a silver cylinder the size of a large coffin. The cart appeared to be specifically designed to carry the cylinder rather than passengers. Tony executed a 180-degree turn and backed the cart up to the portal ramp. The size and shape of the cylinder put Mykl immediately at unease. Jack had said Dawn was supposed to meet them here, yet she was nowhere to be seen. Is that…?
He ran to the cylinder to inspect it. As he touched it, he reflexively withdrew his hand, thinking he had been burned. But it wasn’t heat, but freezing cold that had briefly fooled his nerve endings. He looked from his hand to Dr. Lee, silently begging her to not confirm his suspicion.
“Yes, Mykl,” she said in answer.
He lowered his eyes, knowing she would now try to explain, justify, and mollify. He listened quietly as she spoke of a tumor, cancer, and mortality probabilities. Mykl was confused as to why she used current tense in her explanation: “was dying,” not “has died.” Then she used the word “treatment,” and relief washed over him. He had foolishly jumped to the conclusion that Dawn was dead. All his nagging questions and contradictory observations crystallized into a diamond-hard epiphany of understanding.
“She’s frozen, isn’t she?” Mykl said, interrupting. He just needed this one confirmation to make all the pieces fit.
“Not yet. But she will be soon,” Dr. Lee answered.
“She’s not the only one, either.” Mykl turned from Dr. Lee to Jack. “Is she? That’s where all the children are… and the adults. Everyone’s frozen.” He felt a whisker tickle the inside of his fingers holding Stinker. He understood. “This isn’t a city; it’s an ark.”
“And more,” said Jack. “And not the only one. It wouldn’t be wise to put all our eggs in one basket. Despite the outside world’s current efforts, the human race will survive. It is my sincere wish that Dawn will survive too. Except for us, everyone still in the City has undergone the freezing process. It is necessary for full adaptation when artificially introducing the alien DNA.”
Dr. Lee handed Mykl a small envelope. “Dawn wanted me to give this to you.”
Mykl opened it and slid out the handwritten note. A lump formed in his throat, and he couldn’t help but smile when he read it.
Shortstuff
Make sure I don’t oversleep!
See you soon!
He hugged Dr. Lee. “Thank you,” he said, and he stuffed the note into his duffel for safekeeping.
The tram flew smoothly along tracks it never touched. Mykl gazed at his reflection in the window and on the glossy undulating surface of the tunnel’s inner surface. An infinity of Mykls stared back at him from the dual reflecting surfaces; he commanded all of them with the slightest movement of his head.
A cold nose pressed against his hand. With as much stealth as he could muster, he retrieved a pistachio from his pocket and stuffed it under the bear’s arm. He hoped the muffled crack coming from inside didn’t reach anybody else’s ears.
CHAPTER 51
A slight shifting of Mykl’s weight announced the slowing of the tram. At full stop, the doors slid open on their own. Mykl declined Jack’s offer to hold Stinker as he clumsily crawled out with his duffel.
Dr. Lee and Tony manipulated Dawn’s cryo-cylinder as if it were weightless. Thin strips with a metallic sheen followed a path under the clear floor. They must have produced electromagnetic levitation like the tram tunnel, but on a smaller scale. Mykl could see, by the ease with which they handled the cylinder, that they had done this many times before. More frozen citizens likely inhabited their destination.
The high ceilinged enclosure they stepped into stored hundreds of dusty, rusting, fifty-five-gallon drums stacked haphazardly. Some oozed sticky goo between ill-fitting lids, partially obscuring yellow radiation emblems. Jack said not to worry: the drums were just props to warn away the curious. As if to prove the point, he procured sunglasses for everyone from one of the drums, stating that they would help when stepping into the brightness outside.
Tony transferred Dawn’s cylinder to a large wheeled pushcart while Jack checked the exterior sensors and camera feeds.
As soon as Jack activated the opening mechanism for the massive security doors, a gust of arid wind blew Mykl’s hair back.
Beyond the doorway, identical giant mounds of earth zippered in long rows to his left and right, each with a weathered and rusted door, closed and blocked with imposing thick metal beams. These are fortified bunkers, Mykl realized. Most of the doors displayed warning symbols with skulls and crossbones. Peeling placards declared the contents of each poisoned Pandora’s Box. Behind them, their own placard read, “Nuclear Pathogen.”
Jack led them around their bunker to an airplane boneyard of sun-bleached fuselages. One carcass conspicuously stood out among the others: a flat triangle devoid of wings. The tip on the right hand side had been buried by windblown sand. Desert birds made nests in jagged holes throughout the fusel
age.
“What is that?” Mykl asked, pointing.
“That is the failed Aurora project,” said Jack. “Designed to be the fastest and most stealthy aircraft ever devised by man.”
“Why did it fail?”
“They couldn’t figure out how to make it fly well enough to be of use. And after billions of dollars invested, and threats of war if they succeeded, they finally gave up. It sits out here in plain view of satellites as proof of their abandoning it in the name of peace. Of course, Russia and China know it’s only out here because our military couldn’t get it to work.”
“Isn’t this the kind of thing you were supposed to help with?” Mykl asked.
“I count it as one of our successes.”
“A plane that doesn’t fly?”
“A war that never happened.”
Mykl began to understand better the manner in which Jack answered questions. He never gave a full answer; one had to read between the lines. It was probably an unconscious defense mechanism developed while living in a world of secrets for so long.
Mykl considered. If the failed plane resulted from a program that Jack had successfully sabotaged, that meant…
“Where is the successful Aurora project plane?” he asked.
“Right this way.”
Jack led them down a path through the junkers.
A nondescript plane waited a wingspan off a poorly maintained runway of weathered asphalt. Yellowish stains streaked from its side rivets to its underbelly. Bald tires displayed a mosaic of cracks around the sidewalls. It even featured a dent in the rear passenger section as if it had been bumped by one the other bones dragged in here to be buried by the elements.
“This thing can fly?” Mykl asked warily.
“It’s the fastest plane on the planet right now.”
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