My mind reeled with possibilities, each more horrible than the last. Nate was lying to us. Nate was brainwashed. Nate was under strict instructions not to tell us the truth and that’s why it was him and not my father here to greet us. Dad was somewhere else. Dad hadn’t survived the journey . . .
A lump rose in my throat. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’s inside.” He pointed at the door at the end of the module.
“Then why doesn’t he come here?” I asked. “I don’t want to see the space station.”
“I do!” exclaimed Howard. “Come on, Gillian. Nate says it’s fine.” He pushed past me and floated toward the door.
Nate beckoned to the rest of us.
I shook my head and edged backward. “If Dad were awake, he’d come and greet us.” After all, we’d blasted into space for him. I glanced behind me, at the air lock. Any minute now, Dr. Underberg was going to realize we’d been trapped, and he was going to disconnect and leave us here.
“Oh,” said Nate. “Well, he’s been kind of sick.”
“Sick?” Eric asked.
“Dizzy,” said Nate. “You know. From the microgravity. So he likes to stay in the wheel parts of the station.” He brightened. “You guys have to check out the wheels. It’s so cool. It’s like those videos of the moon . . .” He trailed off and looked from Howard, hovering near the door, to the rest of us, still crowded around the air lock. “I really think you ought to listen to me.”
This time, no one moved.
Howard looked longingly at the door, then back at us. “What are we waiting for?”
Nate flinched. “They aren’t as easy to convince as you, Howard.”
That seemed like the most honest thing he’d said so far.
“Not after the things we’ve seen,” I said.
“And the things we know Anton has done,” Savannah added. “You didn’t see it, Nate. He’s killed, like, millions of honeybees. I mean, designed them to die. He’s a complete loon.”
“He’s a Shepherd,” I finished. It was the same thing.
Nate watched us, then took a deep breath, as if coming to a decision. “Hey, remember when we were all trapped in Omega City and there were those guys chasing us?”
We nodded.
“And we ran away?”
“Yeah?” I put my hand on my hip in impatience.
He drifted closer. “That’s because we could run away. There were places to run to. A whole big underground city. That’s not the case here.”
I narrowed my eyes as he leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“There’s nowhere to run.”
“Nate?” A note of confusion had entered Howard’s voice.
My breath caught in my throat. It was true. We could get back on the ship, assuming Dr. Underberg would let us in, but I couldn’t go and leave my father behind.
“So,” Nate finished, the brittle smile in place as he drew back and resumed his normal speaking voice, “why don’t you all come and meet Anton, and hear what he has to say? He’s been really, really excited about the idea.” He nodded and looked at us meaningfully.
And his meaning was achingly clear. We didn’t have a choice. None of us.
I glanced at my brother, who sighed. “Right. Anton.” He floated toward the door. “This space trip is great. I come half a million miles from Earth to escape the Shepherds, and here they are.”
“Well, yeah,” said Howard. “This is a Shepherd station. Plus, we’re only about two hundred and fifty miles up.”
“Okay,” Eric mumbled as Nate opened the door. Savannah gripped my shoulder hard.
“Though we did come pretty far to get here.”
One by one, we floated through the door, with Nate bringing up the rear.
“We’re circling the Earth once every hour and a half, so I guess you’re right, it has probably been half a million miles, given all the hours we were in orbit last night.”
His chatter seemed to come from very far away. I was breathing hard and heavy as I emerged into the next room.
This chamber was even bigger than the first, and instead of the analog dials, switches, and monitors of Wisdom, it was dominated by touch screens of all shapes and sizes, sleeping berths, and treadmills and other exercise equipment hanging out at all angles.
And floating in the middle of it, looking even more giant than usual in the cramped quarters, was Anton Everett. He smiled broadly at us.
“Hey there! Welcome to Infinity Base! I’ve been waiting for you guys to show up ever since I heard from home about the little mishap in Omega City. What a shock it was to discover you weren’t on board with me.”
A shock? Maybe he’d been surprised, but I was sure that wasn’t his only reaction. Anger, probably. Frustration. But none of that was evident in his behavior right now. He seemed as thrilled to see us as he had been back in Eureka Cove a few days ago. And I was positive he was faking it just as hard.
“And such a disappointment, too. I had so much to show you.” He shook his head as if marveling at us. “You know, all this time I thought my Shepherd upbringing made me special, but look at you four. I didn’t even get to go into space at your age. Mostly because the radiation and zero g isn’t great for developing bodies, but it’s kind of late to worry about that now, right?”
We all just stared at him, baffled.
Finally, I found my voice. “What’s going on?”
Anton stopped and tilted his head. “Well, I don’t know, Gillian. You’re the one who has come to my space station. Why don’t you tell me?”
“We’re here to rescue my father and Nate.”
“Excellent idea! Very brave. If risky.” He floated a few feet away and tapped another screen. “After all, you had no idea what to expect when you got here. Did you?” He turned around and gave us another friendly grin.
This guy was either completely nuts, or the happiest kidnapper of all time. And the worst part was, I had no idea which one it was. Were we his prisoners or his pals?
“But, then again, that’s what makes me think you guys really have what it takes. Bravery. Resourcefulness. Loyalty. You know?”
“Have what it takes for what?” Howard asked.
“To make the hard choices in this world, Howard,” Anton said. “To really look at the problems we’re facing, and know what to do to save the human race.”
Savannah’s mouth was open. “Can we go back to the part about the radiation?”
“There’s a ton of radiation in space,” Howard said. “We have radiation shields on the rocket, but we still get bombarded with way more than we did back on Earth. Still, it won’t be a problem as long as we’re not up here too long.”
“Yes, and Infinity Base is even better than those old rockets.” Anton waved a hand at the docking bay dismissively. “We’ve done a lot of research into the subject. After all, our goal here is to serve as a launching pad for permanent missions into the cosmos. Don’t worry—I’ll give you the full tour soon enough.”
“We don’t want a tour,” I said. “We want to get my father and go back to our ship.”
“Underberg’s ship,” Anton corrected. “It was very good of you to bring him here.” His eyebrows lifted curiously. “Where is Dr. Underberg, by the way?”
Back on the rocket. Possibly dying. But I wasn’t about to tell any of that to the Shepherd floating in front of me. After all, this was Anton Everett, the man who was personally responsible for the death of millions of bees. The only reason he was here was to get Underberg. At least if we kept him talking, we could delay that.
“What are you talking about?” Savannah said, her voice calm and even. “Underberg’s gone. We came here on a ship we stole from Omega City.” She stared at him, unblinking for a second, while the rest of us were too shocked to say anything. Even Howard didn’t correct her.
But Anton merely chuckled. “Not bad. You’ll still need some work, though, before you’ll be ready to sell those lies. The bit about mixing the truth
in is key. I’m very pleased to see you’ve already figured that part out. You’ll make an excellent Shepherd.”
Savannah glanced toward me, horrified.
Even without the benefit of gravity, my heart sank in my chest. If Savannah couldn’t convince him, I don’t know what hope any of the rest of us had.
That’s what this was all about. Anton still thought he could recruit us. But this time, without all the niceties of a fancy dinner at Eureka Cove, or the illusion that we were free to just say no and walk away. Nate was right. We were trapped on this space station, trapped with him. Anton didn’t have to play prison guard or keep us under lock and key. This was outer space. Our ships were our only way off the station, and Dr. Underberg had made it quite clear he would only open them if he thought it was safe.
Anton looked behind us, toward the outer chamber, and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. Even though the chamber was large, he seemed to fill it. I doubted he’d even fit inside Knowledge or Wisdom. I remembered reading somewhere that astronauts were usually short, like pilots, which was better both for resource management and for the cramped confines of space habitats. With his extraordinary height, Anton would never have been able to be an astronaut for NASA.
“Clever man, though, sending you out here alone. He’s sealed himself off out here, has he? Let me guess: He told you he’d open the doors when you came back with your friends?”
We didn’t say anything, but that appeared to be answer enough for Anton.
“Did he give you a password or anything? I know he still has the ability to watch us and see what we’re doing.” He looked at each of us in turn. “No? Well, that makes this all a little complicated.”
“What?” I asked. “Killing him?”
“Talking to him,” corrected Anton. “No one in our organization has tried honestly talking to Underberg in years. And I think he can be reasoned with. Diplomacy is always a better answer than violence, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Nate said quickly. I gave him a nervous glance. Was this how we were all supposed to be acting?
“And I read your father’s book. I think our aims are much more similar than Elana believes. We all want what is best for the world, right? I think we can still come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Fat chance, bee killer. But, following Nate’s lead, I kept silent.
Anton wasn’t done. “And, unlike Elana, I feel like we didn’t really give any of you a fair shake back at Eureka Cove. I mean, wouldn’t you say that? That we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot?”
“That’s one way to put it,” said Eric.
“I think once you really see the importance of what we’re working on, you won’t be so negative. Just ask Nate! He’s been listening to me for a few days now and he’s very excited.”
“Very excited,” Nate echoed, his teeth clenched. He nodded enthusiastically at us, as if begging us to play along.
I shook my head back. How anyone thought I’d be on the side of people who’d been hurting us for years was beyond me.
“I definitely think you guys should hear him out,” Nate said quickly. “I mean, just a for a few minutes. You don’t have to make any final decisions straightaway . . . um, right, Anton?”
“Right!” Anton exclaimed. “I’m in no particular rush. It’s not as if any of us are going anywhere . . . are we?”
I shivered. Nope. Another plan in the dust. Eric had it correct. Five hundred thousand miles, and we were back where we started.
Prisoners of the Shepherds.
16
FALSE FLOCKS
ERIC WAS ALSO THE FIRST TO START PLAYING ALONG. “SURE,” HE MURMURED slowly, in his best fake-happy voice. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to, you know, listen to Anton for a few minutes, Gills.”
“And then you can go see your father,” Anton added.
That got my attention. “Did you manage to recruit him, too?”
Anton cleared his throat, then pasted his smile back on. “What I did was try my best to explain things to him. Up here, away from all the distractions on Earth.”
Away from all the escape routes, he meant.
“I will say, he was incredibly impressed to see everything we’ve created up here. Truly stunned.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “I want to see him now. First. Is he okay?”
Nate made a face. “Well . . .”
I glared at Anton. What had he done to my father?
“He’s fine!” Anton said quickly. I must have looked panicked. “He’s . . . well, let’s just say he doesn’t have a future in aeronautics.”
“He hasn’t stopped throwing up since he woke up,” Nate added.
Howard shook his head. “He would have been kicked out of the space program for that. Not being able to tolerate weightlessness is an automatic cause for grounding.” He turned to me. “Does he have a problem with his inner ear?”
I bristled. I didn’t know. And it wasn’t like Dad had asked to come to space, either. “Where is he?”
“I’ve been weaning him in the centrifuge rings,” Anton explained. “He seems to do a little bit better in there. But actually, last I checked, I think he moved to the observation cupola to watch your approach.”
I couldn’t believe it. When I’d been staring out at Infinity Base, he’d been staring back. I’d spent the last day worrying about what they might do to him up here, and he’d spent it knowing we were walking into a trap.
The world narrowed to a single point. “I’m not doing anything until I see my father.”
“Gillian . . . ,” Nate said, his tone one of warning.
“No problem,” Anton announced. “You’ve come such a long way. Of course you want to see your dad.” He spread his arms wide. “And no one is in any rush here, after all. You aren’t going anywhere.”
His words were even creepier the second time around. I swallowed. We’d see about that once we had my father.
Anton smirked, as if he could read my mind. “I may not be able to open the hatch to Underberg’s ship, but I can prevent him from releasing the docking lock. He’ll be sticking around Infinity Base for the time being.”
I tried to keep the disappointment from showing on my face. We could tackle getting the rocket ships loose later. Dad came first.
Anton motioned us toward the far exit, which stood open. “I think just Eric and Gillian to start. I’m sure Howard and Savannah would like to catch up with Nate. Plus, it’ll be easier to keep my eyes on just the two of you.” His tone was light and friendly, but we all knew debate was not an option. Savannah nodded at me and drifted closer to Nate. I didn’t know what they’d discuss once we were gone. I wasn’t sure they could even talk freely in here. This whole place was probably bugged. With one last look at the three of them, I floated after Eric and Anton in the passageway.
A long corridor connected the cylinders, with view ports at regular intervals showing glimpses of solar arrays and space, and hatches along its length, leading like a series of train cars into each chamber.
As we came closer to the far end of the station, I heard the hum of whatever motor turned the rings.
“Each ring turns at a rate of one and a half rotations per minute, or one point five rpm.” Anton pointed at the smallest ring, turning just beyond the edge of the stem. “As each ring has a larger diameter, the artificial gravity within them is stronger the larger they get. This one is about a sixth of Earth’s gravity, similar to the moon. We call it the bounce house.”
I didn’t want the tour. I just wanted Dad. I rushed through the corridor until we reached the final hatch.
“This is the observation cupola,” Anton said, still acting like our official tour guide. I couldn’t tell how much of his attitude was fake, and it creeped me out. “It’s a bit of a boondoggle. There’s really no practical purpose for so much wasted space. Not to mention the astronomical cost and trouble of installing wide-set glass portals. It wasn’t in Underberg’s original design. I’m sure h
e would agree with me that it’s a weak spot on the station. But Elana wouldn’t hear of it any other way. She didn’t want a space station without a view, as she said. . . .”
I stopped listening and pulled the lever. The door opened with its usual pop and whoosh, and I floated through without another word.
I was surrounded by the universe. Stars—hundreds of thousands of stars, as far as the eye could see. More than I’d ever seen at night, even far out in the country. More than any planetarium. And unlike on Earth, the stars didn’t twinkle. They were just sharp points of light. I could detect the bright, crowded curve of the Milky Way, the faint glow of reddish purple near the horizon of the hazy blue Earth, and brilliant white and pale-colored stars shining through it all. Huge glass panels arced over my head, the banded metal frames hardly breaking the view. At the very edges lay the rotating grayish curves of the centrifuge rings, and the occasional reception dish, but most of the room was filled with the vastness of space itself.
But I only spared a moment for the view Elana Mero had considered so very important. I didn’t even care about the stars. Because in the middle of it all sat my father, on a soft sort of platform jutting out from the wall. His back was straight and he, too, was staring out into the blackness beyond. He was wearing the same soft, dark pajamas as Nate and Anton.
“Dad!” I shouted.
He turned, slowly, and looked back at me. “Gillian!”
I shoved off the threshold and went flying toward him. He seemed to be belted in but he caught me as I came whooshing past, folding me into his lap like I was no bigger than a baby. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his chest.
“Dad. Dad. Dad.” My eyes got blurry with tears that didn’t fall in microgravity, no matter how hard I blinked. His hand was in my hair, and he was holding me so tight I couldn’t breathe and didn’t care. “We got you. We got you.”
“Shhhh,” he said. “Shhhh, it’s okay.”
And, for a single second, it was.
I lifted my head to look at my father, and realized my tears were still clouding my vision. Crying didn’t work in space. I reached up to wipe the bubble of water from my lashes.
Infinity Base Page 14
