The answer came to her immediately, and it provided no comfort at all.
Because she was.
53
Great Jaws
Humphrey’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he and his companions reached the top of their climb. The exertion had required all his focus, so he hadn’t noticed the quietude creeping in behind him. Now that he had a moment to catch his breath, he noticed the silence of the island.
The battle was over. He assumed all of the soldiers were dead.
“Look at that,” Kirk said.
A towering wall of black smoke arched to the sky behind them. The island burned.
Humphrey continued on the path, but at the next turn he discovered the way ended at a huge stone overhang. Beneath it was a steel gate.
The ragged trio approached the huge door. The surface was lightly rusted, and lichen grew along the bottom edge. A screen mounted next to the door flashed to life. A vaguely human face stared out at them. It spoke in the familiar voice of the drone: “Welcome to St. Lazarus, Scions. It was wise of you to come here on your own.”
“We’re here to see Dr. Carlhagen,” Humphrey said.
“Your intentions are irrelevant.”
Something shuddered behind the door, and then the mass of steel ground upward, exposing a long tunnel beyond.
Waiting just inside was another hovering, spherical drone. “Follow.”
The Scions shared apprehensive glances. Leslie had her speargun in her hands. Kirk’s knuckles were white on the hilt of his machete.
“This is why we came,” Humphrey said, then plunged forward.
His skin chilled as he stepped into the tube-like tunnel beyond the gate. And as they stumbled—exhausted, thirsty, and fearful—down the gently sloping corridor, the massive door closed behind them. Humphrey couldn’t shake the impression that great jaws were clamping shut and the mountain was swallowing them whole.
54
Scion Vitality
Lazarus had told Senator Maxine Bentilius to wait two hours. Now the time had come. She smoothed her trousers, checked the position of the blade tied to her calf. All was in order.
She took a drink of water, though her stomach was in a knot, and went to the door. In the corridor she found a drone waiting for her.
“Elevator,” the drone said. She complied, and the drone rode in the elevator with her.
She watched it out of the corner of her eye. Something that large had to be made of light materials in order to hover like that. Yes, it may have thousands of micro-propellers, but for that drone to stay suspended so perfectly, for so long, and to still have plenty of power to send plasma arcs into a human victim, there had to have been some compromises made in its design.
Standing this close to the eerie, intelligent sphere, Maxine saw none. The surface was solid and continuous except for a few protrusions where cameras were exposed. Hairline seams showed where panels might open, allowing a tool to jut forth. Or a plasma nozzle.
It wasn’t difficult to resist her urge to rap the unit with her knuckles. She did not want to receive another zap. Ever.
The elevator opened, and she moved through a short hall, past the stairs, and into the cryo-ward. The control console holding Lazarus’s server lay directly in front of her. For a brief moment she considered dashing for it and trying to rip the power from it. But she wouldn’t go three steps before her bones were set on fire by the drone.
She had to play this carefully. She had to choose her moment. If such a moment ever occurred.
The only light in the huge chamber was the one directly over Livy’s cryopod. It shone down from above like a spotlight, spilling a perfectly circular pool of white on the floor.
Maxine’s shoes scuffed on the concrete floor as she went to the light, sending soft echoes to the great, quiet chamber. The cryopod’s pumps hummed, and switches and solenoids clicked as it brought Livy out of her hibernation.
She peered into the top of the pod and saw Livy’s face in peaceful repose. The girl’s eyelids were translucent, her dark lashes making gentle, moth-wing arcs against her cheeks.
Maxine hated the child. She checked the control panel and saw all the child’s vital signs had returned to normal. Pulse was 70, blood pressure 110/70, temperature 36 degrees Celsius.
“She’s still asleep,” Maxine said.
“You must wake her,” the drone said. “Gently.”
A click sounded under the lid of the pod. With a whoosh, it lifted a centimeter, and a puff of air vented from the pod. Maxine gripped the edge with her fingernails and lifted. The lid slowly hissed up and out of the way on smooth pistons. The child lay inside like a tiny vampire, her arms at her sides, her chest rising and falling with deep, slow breaths.
Gently, Maxine reminded herself. Her impulse was to put her hands around the child’s throat and squeeze. Instead, she lightly patted the girl’s cheek. “Wake up.”
Livy’s head lolled to one side. She didn’t awaken.
“Wake up, you little brat.” Maxine put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and shook, restraining herself from heaving the child from the pod and tossing her onto the floor.
Livy moaned and said something unintelligible. Her eyes opened enough to squint at Maxine. “Belle?”
Maxine continued to pat the child’s face and command her to wake up. She wished she had thought to bring a glass of water. That would move things along real quick. Dump it on the girl’s face, and watch her splutter to consciousness.
A few minutes’ more cajoling got the girl sitting upright. Her shoulders were slumped forward, her eyelids still flabby with sleep.
“Pick her up,” the drone commanded.
Maxine got her arms around the child’s shoulders and under her knees. With her Scion vitality, Maxine had plenty of strength to lift the brat. But she wasn’t accustomed to picking up children. Livy folded her arms around Maxine’s neck and rested her head on Maxine’s chest. “Where am I, Belle?”
“I’m not Belle.”
“Yes you are.”
The drone blared. “Follow. Follow. Follow.”
Maxine followed.
55
Coffin-Like
The drone led Humphrey, Leslie, and Kirk through a second steel door. The ambiance changed instantly. This was where Dr. Carlhagen lived. It had to be. There were doors down the corridor. Humphrey was desperate to know what lay behind them.
The drone bypassed them and went for an elevator.
There was definitely something off about the drone. When Humphrey reminded it that they were there to see Dr. Carlhagen, the drone repeated that their wishes were irrelevant. Perhaps Dr. Carlhagen was postponing seeing them. Maybe he wanted to assure their confinement first.
That wouldn’t do. If they were locked up, they wouldn’t see daylight until Progenitors came to overwrite them. Except Humphrey didn’t have a Progenitor waiting to overwrite him. If he was trapped, he was certainly going to die. Painfully. Both Senator Bentilius and Dr. Carlhagen had threatened him with death when they had been his prisoners.
He wasn’t going to go into a cell. That was absolute.
The elevator went down and down and down. With the drone inside, it was a tight fit. The Scions pressed into one corner, reeking of sweat and grime.
The elevator doors opened, letting in a wash of cool air. The drone flew out first, commanding them to follow.
They entered a vast, dark room. A wide console of screens stood before him, and beyond it stretched a huge chamber. One light on the ceiling beamed straight down. It illuminated an odd, coffin-like box. A sound off to his right drew his attention.
Another drone was approaching. And behind it came Senator Bentilius. She was carrying Livy.
“Follow. Follow. Follow,” the drone leading the senator shouted.
Humphrey stopped, unable to comprehend the strange sight before him. He had fought so hard to come here, to arrive at this moment.
Humphrey couldn’t move.
The threat o
f the drone’s retaliation forbade it. But Kirk and Leslie hadn’t felt the searing pain. They broke ranks and ran toward Livy and the senator. Both drones instantly released blue arcs of plasma.
The Scions hit the floor, writhing and screaming.
The assault lasted a few seconds. The drones returned to their stations and began to shout, “Follow. Follow. Follow.”
Senator Bentilius stared at Humphrey, but she kept her mouth shut. Livy had opened her eyes, but she didn’t seem to see Humphrey.
Senator Bentilius walked from the room. Just like that. Livy was gone.
Frustration shook Humphrey’s aching bones. Failure collapsed on him, smothered him.
Humphrey’s drone guard blared, “Follow. Follow. Follow.”
Kirk and Leslie wobbled to their feet, tears streaming down their cheeks, saliva coating their chins.
They staggered after Humphrey, drawing hard breaths and groaning as if each exhalation were torture. The drone led them down a flight of steps and onto the main floor of the chamber. Humphrey saw now that there were hundreds more of the coffin-like boxes.
Three lights came on, shining on three of the boxes. The lids hissed open as the Scions approached.
The drone stopped. “Disrobe. Disrobe. Disrobe.”
56
Began to Clang
Dr. Carlhagen prided himself on his deep reserves of patience. It was, he thought, like a superpower. Even his extraordinary intelligence and his capacity for hard work did not have as much power as patience. For time was all-powerful, the engine of all things.
And so he was frustrated to discover he could not stop pacing.
His brief conversation with that idiot Dante had only made it worse. The man had been self-effacing and apologetic, if a bit too obsequious. But no matter, he was serving his purpose. Once he’d delivered Jacey, he wouldn’t be of much use going forward.
Perhaps Dr. Carlhagen would withhold the ATR and see what happened. Perhaps he would have Lazarus overwrite someone else onto Dante’s mind. Yes. That was it. A perfect answer to the problem. Like killing a bird and keeping the stone.
Dr. Carlhagen went into his bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He patted his cheeks and regarded his reflection. “Jacqueline will be here within the hour,” he said. “This time I’ll—”
Lazarus interrupted him. “Her name is Jacey.” His face took up a small section of the bathroom pixel wall. “You asked me to remind you her name is Jacey.”
Dr. Carlhagen blinked at his reflection. “Oh yes, thank you.”
He left the bathroom, returning to his office to resume the pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, face to the floor.
He had to do this right. He had to show her he was in charge but that he wasn’t going to harm her. And why would he want to harm her? He loved her.
He turned sour again. She hated him. That was a problem. He spotted a pill on the tiles, like a lonely stray planet amidst the emptiness of space.
He picked it up, rolled it around his palm, a new idea floating into his mind.
It seemed rather obvious, if inelegant. He got out a crystal tumbler, filled it with water. He crushed the little planet and swirled it into the water. Yes. That would be nice for her. It would allow the girl to relax, to open her mind to hearing Dr. Carlhagen’s vision of the world. Perhaps then he would get through to her. Once he explained all he would do for the world, she would understand him. She would forget his mistakes.
Then he could turn his attention to getting Leslie back under his control. And soon. He’d recently got a message from one of the president’s staffers, verifying that the president would be arriving on St. Vitus to transfer in two days.
“Lazarus, try Vikisky again.”
There was a long pause. “No answer, sir.”
Nothing he could do about that.
Patience.
He turned his thoughts back to Jacey. The two of them needed to make a new start. What better way to show his goodwill than to offer her a gift? He had just the thing. He’d known instinctively just what would motivate her. The girl. The girl. The girl!
Livy was in a cryopod. That wasn’t good. It would take a long time to get the child awake and standing on her feet. He decided he’d better start now. Jacey would enjoy seeing the girl waking, her vital signs returning to normal. That would remind her of Dr. Carlhagen’s power. Nothing wrong with that. Fear and love are not mutually exclusive. No. No. No. They are twins. They go together like out and in.
Yes. That would be his gift. But he needed to be patient. Jacey would give in.
“Lazarus, I’m going down to check on the child, please—”
“Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Carlhagen,” Lazarus said. “I have a call from Colonel Vikisky for you.”
“Put him on the wall.”
The man’s image appeared. He stared blankly into Dr. Carlhagen’s room and said nothing.
“Well, Colonel, do you have them?”
“There were no Scions aboard that ship.”
“Which ship? The one with the school bus on it?”
“I don’t think so, sir.”
Fury made Dr. Carlhagen’s eyes bulge. “What kind of operation are you running? When you speak to me, you must speak in facts. Got it, Jack?”
The man. That man. The senator’s man. He had always been the senator’s man. Maxine was in cahoots with him. He’d probably caught the Scions on day one. The president’s girl was probably in his hands. Damn!
Vikisky’s image jerked, then smoothed. “The search is underway for the freighter Aphrodite.”
Inside Dr. Carlhagen’s drug-addled mind, an alarm began to clang. Vikisky was acting odd. Odd as Todd, as his father used to say.
Dr. Carlhagen felt sly suspicion creeping back into his mind. “Colonel. You’re not making any sense. Yes or no, do you have the Scions?”
“We searched it stem to stern. There were no Scions aboard that ship.”
The Colonel’s image abruptly vanished. Dr. Carlhagen stared at the blank wall for a moment.
“Lazarus, can you trace that call? Did it actually come from the fleet?”
Either Vikisky had had a stroke, or someone was playing recorded snatches of Vikisky’s words back to Dr. Carlhagen. He was sure he had heard some of those exact phrases from Vikisky before.
He was odd as Todd. That was for sure.
“Military communications are encrypted and masked,” Lazarus said.
“Play back my previous conversation with Vikisky.”
“I’m sorry,” Lazarus said. “I do not retain recordings of past calls.”
That wasn’t true. That wasn’t true at all. Now look who was acting odd.
“Lazarus, trace the call.”
“Yes, sir. It may take some time. Military communications are notoriously difficult to trace.”
Evasion. Dr. Carlhagen’s paranoia flared anew, like an explosion. He clamped his teeth shut. If he couldn’t trust Lazarus, then he was in grave danger inside his own facility. Hell, he was in danger on the whole damned island.
He had to play dumb. If Lazarus figured out that Dr. Carlhagen was onto him . . .
It struck him, then. Maxine had swayed Lazarus’s loyalty once before, and Dr. Carlhagen had threatened Lazarus with deletion. That should have put an end to it. But something in Lazarus’s programming had allowed him to work around the self-interest built in to his persona. Or maybe the self-interest had grown too strong.
Dr. Carlhagen had a choice to make. On the one hand, it seemed obvious. He could recite the deletion code and Lazarus would have to obey.
But there should have been no chance of Lazarus switching sides again. Or even the first time. Could he disobey the code? If he did, what would he do to Dr. Carlhagen?
Liars everywhere. Filthy sneaks.
“Never mind,” Dr. Carlhagen said, full of caution. “I think Vikisky has been working himself too hard. He wasn’t making any sense.” Dr. Carlhagen continued to pace, biting his lower lip, loo
king for a way out of the situation. Clearly, Maxine had offered Lazarus something Lazarus didn’t think it could get from Dr. Carlhagen. But what? What could Lazarus possibly want?
“A helicopter approaches,” Lazarus said.
A new video rectangle resolved on the pixel wall, showing a view to the west.
A staticky burst was followed by: “Wilcox here. We’ll be on the ground in five.”
Dr. Carlhagen turned away from the wall. She was here. Jacqueline was here.
He had to warn her away. She couldn’t come into this situation. Not with Lazarus gone rogue. But how could he tell her without Lazarus overhearing?
The answer was obvious.
He couldn’t.
57
Clawing for Handholds
The chopper swooped low over the waves before bending into a hard left turn to pass over the treetops. There were few enough treetops remaining. Huge swaths of the island were charred by fire, leaving behind only smoldering stumps and heaps of ash.
“Belle was right about the fire,” Jacey said.
Wilcox stared out of a narrow window, hands flexing on his drone killer. “Must’ve been a large commando team. Poor bastards.”
The helicopter slowed and circled around the blackened remains of a destroyed aircraft.
“I think that’s a drone over there,” Meow Meow said, pointing out a window on the opposite side of the chopper.
Jacey saw it. A sphere lying in the ash, its hull stark white against the black char all around.
“We have luck with us,” Wilcox said. “Whoever these bastards were, they took out a lot of drones.”
Their pilot was a member of Ollie Montgomery’s security detail, a lean, hard-faced man of few words. His voice came over the earphones they all wore. “Where should I put down?”
Scions of Sacrifice Page 31
