by Darrell Pitt
That’s a hard argument to ignore. I follow her down the corridor. It quickly becomes obvious that this is not one of the regular passageways used by Agency personnel. It is more like a service tunnel used for telecommunications and plumbing. Pipes and air conditioning ducts line the ceiling. The lighting is non-existent in some places. I half expect someone to leap out of the shadows at me.
Finally Anna stops before a man hole in the floor. She lifts it up, reaches into the gap and flicks a switch. A weak, electric light illuminates a ladder below.
“We must go down here,” she says.
I shake my head. “Not until I find out what is going on. I’ve followed you this far, but how do I know you’re not trying to kill me?”
“You silly boy.” Anna rolls her eyes. “I am trying to save your life. As did Doctor Richards and the other members of the Alpha Project.”
“You mean when Typhoid attacked The Agency?”
Anna starts down the ladder. “Typhoid did not attack The Agency.” She stops to look up at me. “He and the other scientists were trying to save you from it.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I follow Anna down the ladder. The corridor below is old. Almost ancient. It curves around in a wide bend. The ground underfoot is rough. It feels like we’ve walked miles. Every six feet there is another feeble light set into the ceiling. Anna turns into another corridor. A feeble light shines at the end.
“This tunnel was originally built during the civil war. It was used to store ammunition and supplies. Later The Agency constructed its base over it. Very few people even within The Agency know of these tunnels.”
“I don’t care about your tunnels,” I say. “What is going on? What does The Agency intend to do?”
“It’s not what they intend to do.” Anna draws to a halt. “It’s what they’ve already done.
“Doctor Richards was the lead scientist involved in the Alpha Project. He was able to convince many of the others that what they were doing was wrong. They transported you out of here despite knowing it would probably cost them their lives.” Anna unlocks an ancient door and pushes it wide open. “But he was not able to get everyone out.”
My heart is pounding as I enter the room. It’s barely six feet by eight feet. It contains a kid, maybe thirteen years old with thin black hair, sitting on a bunk located close to the floor. He is wearing a t-shirt and shorts. His shoes are too large for him. On his arms are needle marks, but they are so faint they’re almost invisible. Hanging from the ceiling is a single light bulb suspended from a chain. There is a small hand basin and toilet. At the other end of the chamber is a second door similar to the first. Iron bars in the grate look out onto blackness.
At first I think the paint on the walls is peeling, but then I realize the dark, tight patches are writing. Words. Formula. Languages. Lines and lines of information cover every inch of the cell.
The kid looks up without seeing me. It’s like he’s looking through me. My throat is dry. I think if I try to make a sound it will come out as a whisper. My legs are shaking so hard I can hardly stand.
I lean against one of the walls for support.
How could this be allowed to happen?
“This is Ferdy,” Anna says.
“Mr Jones said they tried to make the procedure work with adults. He didn’t say -.”
“There were other children before you,” Anna nods. “Many of them. Some of them were sent away to other facilities. Most did not survive the process. Ferdy is the last one of the previous batch who -.”
“Batch?” I can hear my voice rising. “You make him sound like an experiment.”
Tears fill the doctor’s eyes. She wrings her hands together. “We did not know it would be like this. I swear it. We thought we would be experimenting with animals. It was only after we started that I realized we were using human subjects.”
“You should have refused -” I begin.
“Refused?” Anna looks at me in disbelief. “It’s impossible to refuse Twelve. Other aliens who work within The Agency are not like him. But as far as Twelve is concerned, you are either with him or against him. He rules with an iron fist. Most of the scientists who work within The Agency do not suspect the breadth of its experiments.”
I turn to the figure sitting on the bed. “Ferdy. Are you alright?”
He remains silent.
“Ferdy?” I try again. “Can you hear me?”
“The area of a triangle.” He stops. “The area is calculated my multiplying half the base times the height.”
I’m not sure what to make of this. “Okay.” I continue. “My name is Axel. I’m here to help you. We’re going to leave this place. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He looks through me again. “The highest mountain is on Mars. It is Olympus Mons and rises to a height of 69,459 feet.” He stops. “And yes I understand you.”
I nod in relief. “I am a friend.”
“The most abundant element in the universe is hydrogen,” he tells me.
“He has a photographic memory,” Anna explains.
“Has he always been like this?”
She shakes her head. “No. He was a perfectly healthy little boy when he arrived. It was only after the experiments that he changed as did all the others. They changed or they perished.”
“Are these experiments still being carried out?”
“Not now. Doctor Richards destroyed all the research before he ran away with you and the others. Twelve has been trying to get me to reproduce Richard’s work, but it’s impossible.”Anna’s face looks so yellow in the pale light she appears unwell. “I swear I didn’t know it would be like this -.”
“Sacrifices must always be made for the greater good,” a voice says from behind us.
We spin around. Twelve has a gun pointed directly at Anna.
He pulls the trigger.
Chapter Thirty – Six
I’m not fast enough.
If I were faster I could have thrown up a barrier, but because I’m not -.
The bullet hits her.
Anna rebounds against the wall. She tries to stay on her feet, but gravity drags her to the floor. At the same time Twelve disappears from the doorway and the sound of his footsteps recede up the narrow corridor. I kneel next to Anna, taking her hand. I am reminded of when I woke up in the hotel room with Doctor Richards on the floor. History is repeating itself.
Ferdy’s small hand touches Anna’s forehead as she tries to speak.
“The average resting pulse of a human is sixty to ninety beats per minute,” he says softly. “Doctor Anna is a friend.”
I try to staunch the bleeding. “Anna. I’ll get help.”
But no sooner are the words out of my mouth than a blast erupts down the passageway behind us. I instantly throw up a shield to protect us from the worst of it. Dust flies everywhere. Cracks appear in the walls. The lights go out and for a long moment I think the whole structure is about to cave in around us.
Finally the noise subsides and we’re left in complete and total darkness. No matter what my powers may be, there’s no way I can navigate out of a black hole a hundred feet underground.
The light bulb flickers back on. Faintly. I stare at it, daring it to die out.
It fades once, but returns to life, casting a faint yellow glow around the cell.
I’m still trying to stop the blood flow from Anna’s chest, but it’s like trying to plug a hole in a dam with a pebble. I look down into her face. She is pale. She’s lost a lot of blood. I’m not sure even a doctor could save her.
“You have to escape The Agency,” she urges. “It’s…”
“Just hold on. I’ll get us…”
“It’s too late for me. Take Ferdy.” She swallows hard as a spasm of pain works through her body. “We didn’t know…the children…wrong, but I never realized…”
“Anna…”
Her eyes open wide. “You should know…you have…”
She struggles to speak.<
br />
“…a brother…”
The silence closes in around us. Ferdy strokes her face, murmuring details about chemical compounds and how Anna was his friend. This is how it all started. A small room. A dying person. Enigmatic words.
I have a brother.
I shake my head. Now is not the time to think about such things. I’m not sure how much air we have left remaining in this small chamber. We need to get out of here.
If we can get out.
“Ferdy?” I look up at the other door. “Where does that lead?”
Ferdy is still holding Anna’s hand. “Rigor mortis sets in approximately three hours after death -.”
“Ferdy? Listen to me -.”
“- and lasts approximately twelve hours.” He looks at the door. “I don’t know.”
I press my face against the metal bars. I can feel cold air, but I don’t feel a breeze. Glancing back to the other door, all I can see is fallen rock and debris. That way is completely impassable. I focus on the door and push it out of its hinges. It falls to the floor beyond with a crash.
A sea of darkness lies beyond the chamber. Ferdy is suddenly by my side. He presses his head against my shoulder.
“Do you know where this leads?” I ask.
“We are only a hundred feet from the ocean,” he says. “Jellyfish have no heart or brain.”
“Okay. That’s handy to know.”
A light suddenly flicks on, illuminating the inky blackness. Ferdy has a torch. Thank God for small miracles. I take it from him and shine it around the interior. At first it looks like things have gone from bad to worse. We’re standing in some sort of naturally occurring cave. The ceiling at the back seems to gradually slope down to the floor.
There is a pile of rocks and debris to our left. I hold onto Ferdy’s arm while we examine the debris. If I was expecting a secret tunnel or an elevator leading upwards, I’m very sadly mistaken. There’s nothing back here.
A tiny ping interrupts the silence.
I look back towards the rear of the cave where the ceiling meets the floor. It is as smooth as glass.
Water.
“Ferdy. Is that a pool?” I ask.
“The speed of light is two hundred and ninety-nine -.”
“Yeah, that’s great, but is -. Oh, never mind.”
I kneel down and touch my hand to the liquid. It is dead cold to the touch. Tasting it, my hopes rise when I taste -.
“Salt,” I say. “Ferdy, this is salt water.”
“We are only one hundred feet from the ocean,” Ferdy says.
Holy hell.
This is what Ferdy has been trying to tell me.
“Is this an underground river? Does it lead to the ocean?”
“David Blane broke the world record when he held his breath for seventeen minutes and four seconds -.”
“Hopefully we won’t have to break his record.”
I turn off the torch. At first all I can see is dark, but after several seconds I’m aware of a faint glow coming from the back of the still lake. I turn the torch back on.
“Ferdy?” I get down on my knees and look into his face. “You understand what we have to do? We have to swim through the water to the other side. Can you swim?”
“The world record for backstroke is -.”
“Can you swim?”
“The deepest part of the earth’s oceans is the Marianas Trench -.”
“That’s great.” I let out a deep sigh. “Ferdy. We have to get out of here. I’m going to swim through under the water till I reach the ocean. You have to hold onto my belt. With your other hand I need you to light the way. Hopefully the torch will hold out. Do you understand?”
“The deepest part of the trench -.” He stops. “I understand.”
I stare into his eyes. I hope he does. I think he’s autistic, but it’s a special type of autism where he has unlimited amounts of knowledge. He needs to understand that he cannot let go of me in the water. If he does, I’ll probably never find him again. For that matter, if the torch should fail we’ll drown in the dark or if I can’t hold my breath long enough -.
I latch his hand onto the back of my belt and explain to him again what I’m going to do. He still seems to look straight through me, but he nods occasionally as I speak. Finally I step into the water and he obediently follows me into the cold, clear fluid. We walk until it rises to my waist.
“We need to take deep breaths, Ferdy. Do you understand?”
He nods.
“We’re going to take three deep breaths and then we’ll dive in. We’re going to swim until we reach the ocean on the other side. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says. “Pictichromis diadema are a type of fish.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” We take another step into the water. “Take a deep breath. That’s it. And number two. Yes. And now…three!”
The black water closes in around us.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
We are lost in an endless void of black. It’s impossible to tell up from down. It’s only the trail of bubbles trickling from my mouth that show the difference. The water is freezing. And motionless. A cold deep well into which we have fallen and from which there is no reprieve.
The roof of the cave angles deeper and deeper into the water and we follow it all the way down into the icy depths. Certainly the water flows from the ocean into this small cave, but by what circuitous path? How many twists and turns before we reach the end? How deep must we dive before we can rise again?
The rock face aims ever downwards.
It occurs to me that I should have used our powers to aid us, but my training with Mr Brown did not include underwater activities. There’s only one direction to go. And that’s down.
Ferdy hangs onto my belt ever more tightly as my eyes begin to bulge from the pressure. The rock face angles away from me. It must be flattening out to -.
It continues downwards. My chest is beginning to feel the crush of the pressure. My brain and millions of years of evolution tell me I should breathe. Yet I have to hold my breath. My body is being denied of oxygen, the one element it should be able to master. I swim harder downwards.
Abruptly, like the edge of a knife, the rock comes to a halt. I pull us around and we start to ascend. We head up ten feet. Twenty feet. Thirty feet.
Something is wrong. My arms and legs are in such a flurry of activity to project me forward that it has taken me several seconds to realize I am missing something vitally important.
Light.
Why can’t I see any light?
If I have come up on the other side of an enormous boulder, why am I not seeing a cave beyond and the glow of the outside world? I am seriously running out of air. My lungs are pounding. My heart is racketing along like a steam train. Why can’t I see any light?
Because I’m in a cave.
And now there is only one way to find light. That is to extinguish it so I reach down and grip the torch in Ferdy’s hand and shut my eyes tightly. When I open them I see a translucent column of light growing out of the darkness.
I snap the torch back on. Ferdy must be feeling the need for air as keenly as me. Possibly it is only his autism – or whatever his ailment is – that has stopped him from panicking. I swim as hard as I can towards the spot where I spotted the faint flow. A bubble of air involuntarily escapes from my mouth and I snort in a nose full of salty brine.
I swim even harder and the water seems to press against my brain. If I don’t make it in the next few seconds we are both going to drown.
The column of light arcs down towards us from above.
Yes!
I can see a gap in the rock.
We are going to make it -.
The column of light cuts through the water like sunlight carving a path through storm clouds to illuminate the landscape below. It draws me to the gap between the rocks. From here, I can see the surface of the water. It lies between two parallel boulders wedged about five inches apart from each other. My arm sh
oots up and the rest of me follows. I bang my head against one of the rocks and with that final stab of pain I realize I can’t fit through the gap.
It is even too narrow for Ferdy.
Oh God, what have I done?
I need to focus on using the air above to push the rocks aside, but the lack of air is turning the world black around me. We are drowning and there is nothing I can do. I need to create a wedge between the rocks, but black spots are drowning my vision.
Ferdy releases my belt and pushes past my body. He feels the gap between the two rocks. Everything is turning inky black. I have failed him and failed myself. I need to concentrate. Somehow bring air down from above into my mouth and lungs.
But I can’t -.
The water rumbles around me. As the liquid pushes into my nose I see Ferdy shoving the two boulders aside. I raise my arm. Ferdy grabs it and hauls me up from the water. I lay like a beached fish, coughing and spluttering and choking and spitting out salt water.
Air. Glorious air.
My face presses hard against the gritty rock face. We are at the entrance to a cave pointing onto the ocean. I can see briny seaweed. Tiny mollusks dot the slimy rock face. A crab sidles out of sight. The cave opens out onto a rock platform that follows the coast away into the distance.
I roll over to see Ferdy standing over me with a curious expression.
“Ferdy.” My first attempt at communication is unsuccessful; I spend the next minute vomiting up more seawater. “Ferdy. Did you move the rock?”
“Rock?”
He picks up a boulder as large as a small cow and throws it fifty feet into the waters beyond. It skips across the ocean a few times before it sinks from sight forever. I stagger to my feet.
“An octopus has three hearts,” Ferdy tells me.
“Really? How interesting.”
Obviously, Ferdy not only has a super brain, but he also has super strength.
I spend the next few minutes telling him I have to leave for a while, but I’ll be back later. Trying to go into more detail would be a waste of time. I consider informing him to be careful and don’t talk to strangers, but -.
Well, I think Ferdy can look after himself.
