Gyre (Atlas Link Series Book 1)

by Gunn, Jessica

  We both jumped.

  “Bridge to Mr. Boncore. Bridge to Mr. Boncore.”

  Chelsea’s face flushed, and she nudged me. Breath ragged, she said, “It’s probably because you didn’t answer.”

  I let out a long sigh and slouched over. “You could have woken me up.” Whatever they called me for, it had better be good if it had to interrupt this.

  I drew away from her, strode over to my desk, and flicked the switch on my radio. “Boncore.”

  Christa Jackson’s voice flooded through the other end. “You’ve had a call trying to come in for the past three hours.”

  Her informality said everything I needed to know. “I’m happy I slept through it, then.”

  “We have a contractual obligation to place your parents’ calls—”

  “Straight to me, I know, I know,” I said, readying my computer to take the call. The only reason the contract was in place was because I’d been a minor when the Navy hired me. Need to change that arrangement. I pulled up the phone-dialing program and plugged a headset into the jacks on the side of my CPU. “Put them through.”

  “You don’t want to talk to your parents?” Chelsea asked.

  I winked at her, hoping it hid the real reasons for my anxiety. “Not while my girlfriend’s in my bed.”

  The lie worked. Chelsea smiled and grabbed the book off the floor to keep reading. “Hurry back.”

  I hadn’t wanted to leave the bed in the first place.

  Christa connected the line to my parents, and my headset clicked in acknowledgement. A man’s voice came over the speaker, sinking a knife into my gut. “Trevor.”

  Not my father. “Thompson.”

  Thompson’s voice slithered through my headset. “Is there something you’d like to tell me about?”

  “It has been a long time!” I said, forcing a smile despite knowing he couldn’t see it. Maybe it’d help play this off so Chelsea wouldn’t be suspicious. “How are you?”

  “Who’s in the room with you?” he snarled.

  “No, I haven’t talked to Dad in a while. I’m having fun here, though.” I leaned back in the chair, bracing myself for whatever hell he’d prepared.

  He huffed. “We know about the outpost. Whatever game you’re playing, it ends now.”

  I rubbed my mouth and chin with my knuckles to stop myself from getting smug at being able to piss him off from so far away.

  “What outpost?” My eyes shot to Chelsea. Had I said that out loud? Her face was still in the book, lost to the world. Like tunnel vision but worse.

  “The one you failed to inform us about,” Thompson accused. “JoAnne isn’t happy Valerie said something and not you.”

  JoAnne, my mother, probably didn’t care. The feeling was mutual.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Stop playing the fool!” His retort roared through the headset. I pulled them away from my ears. “If Valerie wasn’t there, this whole mission would have failed.”

  Dammit, Valerie. “Good for her.”

  “Trevor—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  He grunted, and anger seized his voice into something animalistic. “Help Valerie take the artifacts, or the other operative will. Then you’ll find yourself in a very nasty position.”

  He ended the call.

  I sat there staring at the screen. Another operative? They’d placed someone here besides Valerie and me? I wracked my brain for the crew list, zipping through it. No. None of these people were tied to Thompson. Not without me knowing. Not without Valerie saying something. And even if Thompson spoke the truth, the third agent had to have gotten here recently, sometime between when I returned from Boston and now.

  I glanced at Chelsea. She was the only person onboard who fit that description. A petite blonde with Atlantean teleporting abilities working for Thompson and his crew? I chortled. I got played by Thompson. “Jerk.”

  Chelsea glared up at me from her book. “Excuse me?”

  Jesus. “No, not you!” I strode to the bed and placed my hands on either cheek. “Never you.”

  She put the book down and reached an arm behind my neck. “Good.”

  She caught my lips with her own in an agonizingly slow motion, a harsh punishment for an insult not slung her way. Chelsea may be torturing me now, but she couldn’t be working for them. I would know. I knew I’d know.

  Maybe it was a good thing I hadn’t said anything to her about my parentage, after all.

  I flipped the Atlantean outpost upside down. Building models from the bottom up was easier on my tablet, especially with the software I used. This wasn’t anywhere near as fun as building videogames, but Chelsea would love the rendering, even if I’d built the model for the Admiral and not specifically her.

  I added a few more pieces to the model before flipping it back. My eyes stung from looking at the screen for hours while I waited for Chelsea to finish her work at the outpost for the day. I glanced up at the Dining Deck’s clock for confirmation. Three hours. Three hours filled with recreating the outpost in a 3D environment for the Admiral’s benefit. What did he want with the model, anyway? To share it with the entire brass?

  “Mr. Boncore?”

  Dr. Hill stood on the other side of the table. He wore a warm smile and an armful of books. “Can I bother you for a brief moment?”

  What did an archaeologist need me for? Unless he meant the rendering. “You’re not interrupting me, although the model isn’t done yet.”

  Dr. Hill set his books on the table and pulled out a chair. “There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about. May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He sat and scooted forward, one leg stretched out before him. “I know you and Chelsea are close.”

  My eyebrows rose. That was blunt. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “You’re aware of her abilities, are you not?”

  My heart dropped straight through my chest to the floor. What? When the hell had he learned about those? Chelsea had said he believed the leak on the outpost was a freak accident.

  I leaned across the table so he wouldn’t mishear me. “Who told you?”

  Dr. Hill held up a finger. “Chelsea saved my life at the outpost. Water poured in through a leak in the roof. I lied about what I saw.”

  So what? Not to mention, Why aren’t you scared? I would be in his place, if I’d seen powers for the first time.

  “I’m aware of your connections and lineage, Mr. Boncore.”

  My blood ran cold.

  “I also know you’re aware of what your satellite station has found. If you intend to hand over all of these artifacts to your employers, I have been given permission by mine to stop you at all costs.”

  I fought to keep my expression deadpanned while the rest of me wound up into a tight coil of anxiety and defensiveness. Who was this guy, thinking he could come here and sling threats around?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. Maybe if I denied it, he’d go away. But part of me wanted to know what he knew.

  Dr. Hill leveled me with a look. “Chelsea speaks highly of you, so I don’t want to assume you’re allied with her enemy.”

  “What enemy?” The coil unwound an inch, lacing my voice with anger. “Chelsea’s just some girl from Boston.”

  He glanced around the room and, satisfied no one sat within earshot, leaned in. “And you’re a boy from Tennessee, whose ancestors came from Lemuria. I know why you’re here, Mr. Boncore.”

  “Then don’t you think that if turning SeaSat5 in was my plan, I’d have done so days ago?” My fists clenched. I didn’t like how he knew so much about me, or that he thought he could make assumptions as to my course of action.

  “I don’t support what they do, or fight for,” I continued. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” I stood, eyes focused on the door.

  Dr. Hill grabbed my arm and held fast. “The Lemurians will come for her. You know that, right?”
>
  My heartbeat raced. “I know they’ll try, but once they see she’s not a danger—”

  Dr. Hill narrowed his gaze. “You don’t know?”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Screw this stupid game. “Know what?”

  “She’s a genetically modified Atlantean super soldier. Chelsea is a danger to them, and they will take her.”

  He’d said it matter-of-factly, like I should know what that meant. I didn’t. The stories my parents had told me included soldiers, but never genetics or “super” anything. Helen had, though. She’d based her entire hypothesis around genetics.

  A deep breath swept my lungs as puzzle pieces fit together before my eyes. Chelsea…

  “She has multiple powers,” he explained. “The people I work for study the Link Pieces and individuals like her whose ancestors escaped testing labs on Atlantis. They tried to modify humans to win the war.”

  “Clearly their plan didn’t work.” Lemuria won with flying colors.

  Hill shook his head, and I sat down at the table, now too intrigued to leave. How’d he know all this? And why had he chosen me to tell it all to?

  “No, it didn’t, but the traits have been passed down through the generations,” he explained.

  “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  Hill looked down to his stack of books before speaking. “Chelsea—and the artifacts—would be safer if she left with me.”

  My stomach dropped to my knees. Hadn’t this been what I’d wanted? A way for her to escape, to keep her safe? But hadn’t I also decided to hell with the Lemurians’ war, to try to convince Thompson that Chelsea wasn’t a threat?

  My fists tightened as another thought hit: this guy had to be allied with Atlantis. Maybe Chelsea would be safer with him, with her own kind. Assuming he was actually Atlantean.

  Was I actually considering this?

  “So, you want me to talk to the Captain?” I asked.

  “And have to explain to him everything you already know? No.”

  “He kind of controls the boat and all hands on it.” What did he expect me to do about it? Did Dr. Hill know about Valerie, too? “What you don’t understand is that no one on this tank, besides you and me, knows the first thing about the Atlantean-Lemurian war. Without telling Chelsea or the Captain, you’re not going to get her to leave.”

  “But you can.”

  Guess he didn’t know about Valerie. So Valerie was safe, and he thought me the only intermediary between Thompson and Dr. Hill’s employers. Meanwhile, Valerie thought me a traitor, and Chelsea counted me as what I hoped was an amazing boyfriend.

  God, I missed college. Homework. Advising meetings. Working on my thesis project. Making videogames. Not these lies and secrets and pretenses.

  I shook my head. “No. I won’t get involved in this. SeaSat5 is the safest place on the planet for her right now. Our prototype shield blocks the Lemurians from getting onboard.” Or at least I hoped it would.

  “If they boarded via teleportation,” Dr. Hill countered.

  My eyes narrowed. “How do you know about Humming Bird?” So much for secrets.

  He cocked his eyebrow the slightest bit. “Let’s just say Lemuria isn’t the only entity with a watch on SeaSatellite5.”

  So SeaSatellite5 had an Atlantean mole on board, too? My fingers itched with ideas for a major Humming Bird update. This has to stop. “Look, Lemuria hasn’t caught wind of the find or they’d be here already.”

  Except they had caught wind of the find, which greatly increased the probability they’d come to SeaSat5, especially after Thompson’s call. So why was I rejecting his help?

  “It’s only been a few days,” said Dr. Hill.

  “Long enough. I thank you for your concern, Dr. Hill, but I can keep this under control.”

  I’d do everything in my power to keep Lemuria away from Chelsea. Captain Marks would protect every one of his crewmembers, and Helen could help Chelsea understand, even perfect, her abilities without testing them for god knows what purpose. And she’d do it all without becoming a pawn, a warrior, for Atlantis.

  My fists clenched and unclenched on the tabletop. Dr. Hill had made all the wrong impressions.

  He reached into the top chest pocket of his fatigues and pulled out a pen, then slid a tiny notebook out from his stack of books, ripping off a piece of paper. He wrote as he spoke. “If anything happens—and I mean anything—after I leave here, you give me a call, all right? Especially if she develops another power. It’s important.”

  He held out the paper, and I took it from him. He’d written down a phone number with a sequence of extensions.

  “Ask for TAO and then me,” Dr. Hill said.

  “TAO?”

  “My employers.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I thought you worked for the military.”

  Dr. Hill stood from the table and grabbed his books. “I do.”

  He left without another word.

  I dropped the 3D modeling program and pulled up a military database I had access to, thanks to my work with Humming Bird. TAO didn’t show up anywhere. To my knowledge, SeaSat5 was the most classified project in the military’s entire repertoire, followed closely by Humming Bird.

  This TAO beat it out, and yet… if they studied Link Pieces, Thompson and my mother should have known about it. Why hadn’t they told me?

  Chelsea

  looked up from the mess of papers on my desk to my clock. Its numbers screamed 12:03 a.m. in bright red colors. The Atlantean journal had enthralled me for hours. Shit. I’d missed dinner and seeing Trevor because of it. But he hadn’t come to find me, either.

  I frowned. Why? It wasn’t like I’d meant to fall into a research hole. The more I looked at the artifacts, the less I slept or was able to maintain focus on anything besides the art pieces and texts. Some of them glimmered a blue hue in the right light, but once you looked closely, the twinkling went away. Like you couldn’t look at it head-on and expect the shimmering to still be there, a mirage on a hot summer’s day.

  I also still couldn’t read the journal’s entries. Dr. Hill had said some parts drifted from Atlantean into Ancient Greek, making the text hard for him to read and translate. Sometimes when I read it, the words shifted into English, and I understood every page. But as soon as I’d noticed the shift—which wasn’t always right away—the words reverted into scribbled Atlantean and Greek. I swore it had happened, but because the words had never stayed, I attributed it to lack of sleep and decided to still not tell Helen.

  I gave the journal one last glance-over before looking to the clock again. 12:15 a.m. Helen had wanted to meet early to work on my new ability to control water. With a groan, I stood from my desk and locked the journal safely within its bottom drawer, wrapped up in a swath of fabric from the site. Too tired to try teleporting to my quarters—or risk showing up in Trevor’s—I traversed the Science Decks en route to my quarters.

  Laughter permeated the hallway near the Lift. My ears strained to identify who the out of place noise belonged to. Light shone from beneath a door to a small lab and out of a small window near the top. I peered inside. Freddy and Trevor sat next to one another, pretending not to look at each other’s cards despite obvious signs to the contrary. Across the table from them, Julie sat in Michael’s lap, shielding her cards from view. Dave appeared to have recently folded, and Helen drew her winnings to herself.

  I pulled myself from the door, feeling left out. A black pit rotted my stomach. Why hadn’t Trevor invited me? Was he mad I’d missed dinner because of the outpost? Tendrils sprung from the pit of my stomach. I’d lost track of time, not intentionally ditched him.

  I shoved down the feeling. I’m just tired.

  The door opened on my loneliness. Trevor grinned at me. “Want to join?”

  My thumbnail looked mighty interesting right then. I picked at the skin around it. “I don’t know. Looks like you guys are far into the game.”

  He held out his hand. “Oh, come on.”
/>   I shook my head, arms crossing at my chest. “You didn’t tell me you had plans.” Stupid. Why’d you have to bring it up?

  He shrugged. “You looked tired. You’ve been at the outpost basically since we found it. I figured you wanted alone time or sleep.”

  Fair enough. And considerate. Still, I didn’t want to intrude if they were so far into the game.

  His eyes widened, eager. “Please?”

  Assuming they hadn’t wanted me there now felt idiotic. I’d feel like a fool if I went in there now, but dammit if I didn’t want to spend time with Trevor.

  “Okay. Do you have coffee?” I asked.

  He grinned from ear to ear. “Absolutely.”

  I lazily pointed past him, resigned. “Then let’s go.”

  He planted a quick kiss on my forehead and held open the door.

  Julie fist-pumped the air the moment I joined the room. “Yes, another girl! I’ll win the solo quarters for sure.”

  Supposedly, somewhere on Res Deck 4, there was a winnable solo quarters, so those with roommates could live a month or two without them. I guess this was how the room was won, which left me to wonder exactly how legitimate the whole thing was.

  “Is that what you’re playing for?” I asked. A bunch of the guys nodded. Looking to Julie, I said, “Guess I can’t leave you hanging.”

  Dave dealt me a hand. His fingerless gloves and hockey shirt were both marked with a Boston Bruins hockey logo. Guess his wrist had been feeling better. At least the cast was finally off.

  “Good team choice,” I said. I wasn’t much of a sports fan, but I supported my city to the grave.

  He winked at me. “Coincidence, I assure you.”

  They played some weird SeaSat5 version of poker I couldn’t follow. I tried my best to keep up, but only became an easy opponent for the rest to beat. Within two rounds, Julie won the solo quarters for three months. She winked at Michael, a hot blush creeping up her cheeks as he squeezed her thigh, and I understood why she’d wanted the room so badly. I smiled at my cards, not trying to ruin their moment.

  Trevor didn’t seem to pick up on it. Had he never considered how lucky he was to have solo quarters? Did he ever think about the benefits at all? It wasn’t always about the peace and quiet of not having a roommate.