The Controller (The Securus Trilogy Book 2)

by Anthony Maldonado

  “No!” Sayda shouts. She runs after Radek, but Malin grabs her by the arm and throws her to the ground. She is too weak to put up a fight.

  I slowly stumble over to face Malin. Fighting him would be useless, but if he is going to kill me, I will not give him the added satisfaction of cowering from it. He again retracts his visor, making sure I see the eyes of the man who will end me.

  “I was hoping you would ignore my warning. Now I can do what should’ve been done the instant my men were killed,” he says while raising his weapon.

  I close my eyes and think of Talia. It saddens me that I will never be able to look into her angelic eyes again, and even more so that there was no time to tell her goodbye. At least she will be free to lead Securus without Caelum using me to manipulate her.

  I wait for the blast of his weapon, but none comes. Did he already shoot, and I’m too numb to feel it? I wonder while awaiting my fate. It feels like I am on my feet, so he must have hesitated. Confused by the stillness, I reopen my eyes. Malin has lowered his weapon. He appears to be listening to something.

  “Yes, sir. I understand, sir,” he snarls into his internal communicator, before turning back to his men. “Let them go, Karun gave them clearance to chase their prisoner. He says to let them go back to Securus.” The disgust and disappointment in his words are so thick they are palpable.

  The Soldier Guards walks away. They give no effort to assist us. We are no longer their concern so they march on, continuing their patrol. My head spins. A shade again creeps onto my vision. I am not sure if any of this is real. Did Talia really get the message to Braeden? It was a nice idea, but I never believed the excuse would really work. At the time I figured it was only slightly better than nothing.

  Unless I am delirious again, the Soldier Guards are gone and have taken their lights with them. They left me standing in the dark, or at least I think I am. The somber chorus of Sayda’s sobbing comes from close by. I want to comfort her, but my body no longer responds to my commands, and refuses to move. My energy has been depleted. I am unable to stop myself from falling. Even with the impact of my body colliding with the floor, I fell nothing.

  I think of Talia again. Sayda will be the only one left to tell her what happened. My mind tumbles back into delirium. This time nothing shakes me from it. Both my body and mind are shutting down from the overwhelming fatigue and severe dehydration. Death will soon follow.

  “Securus, this is Sayda White,” I hear her saying before my world goes silent. Now there is only absolute nothingness. I hear nothing and see only the oppressive black shroud enveloping me. My fleeting consciousness drifts in and out. I hear my own voice break the silence before I completely slip away, “Talia!” My dying thoughts are only of her.

  *

  My eyes open to a blinding light. The blurred and wiggling forms of the walls make me unsure if this is real or another dream. The area looks like a room the infirmary. How did I get here? My confused thoughts are interrupted by the searing pain threatening to explode my head. I struggle to get up, but my muscles continue to deny my commands. It feels exactly like when I came in from the Solar Panel detail, except this time no one has strapped me to the gurney.

  “It’s about time you woke up,” Rana’s familiar voice tells me. My disappointment from hearing her voice is not because of who it is but rather because of who it is not. Now recognizing we really are in the infirmary, I expected Talia to be here with me.

  My vision settles. Still, Talia is nowhere to be seen. We are in the surgical room and from the corner of my eye I see another gurney set up next to mine. This is an unusual setup, but then again, these are not usual circumstances. My head falls to the side, toward the extra gurney. I am relieved to see Sayda sitting there, impatiently staring at her intravenous infusion. When she sees me looking at her, a weakened smile breaks through her pensive exterior.

  “Good to see you looking well,” I manage to say with a weak voice. The words hurt as they come out, as if the very air escaping me gouges into my parched throat.

  “I would be better if she would let me outta here,” Sayda says, refusing to even say Rana’s name.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Well,” Rana starts to answer before Sayda cuts her off.

  “After the Soldiers left, I used the communicator to get help from Securus. A team of Guards came to get us. They brought us here, and I haven’t been allowed to leave since,” Sayda says with a pointed stare at Rana.

  “You were both extremely dehydrated and needed to be treated. Honestly, I don’t know how you even remained conscious, Sayda,” Rana says, shaking her head in exasperation.

  “She’s too stubborn to pass out,” I say with a slight grin. That is the truth, and I am glad for it. If it were not for Sayda, we would have died in the tunnel. I notice Rana did not mention the others. Her omission worries me. “What about Hadwin and Radek?”

  “That’s complicated.” Rana evades the question.

  “See, that’s all she’ll tell me,” Sayda fumes.

  “What are you not telling us?” I ask her calmly. Rana looks hesitant, but knows she will have to tell us something.

  “I’m not sure if either of them will make it,” she finally admits.

  “So that means at the moment, both Radek and Hadwin are alive?” I ask, feeling encouraged by the news. I thought Radek was already dead in the tunnel, so this is a surprise to me.

  “Yes, but just barely. You both can see them when your treatment is finished.” Rana shoots a stern look directly at Sayda.

  Rana rechecks the infusions with an unsteady hand. I thought it was only the condition of the others making her elusive, but by her abnormally fidgety demeanor, Rana is obviously hiding something else from me. Her agitation combined with Talia’s absence makes me increasingly concerned. I attempt to sit up, but am unable to gather the strength.

  “Is Talia coming down soon?” I ask.

  “She’s unavailable right now. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the others,” Rana answers, quickly moving to the door.

  “Rana! Where is she?” I demand and wince from the pain in my airway caused by the effort.

  “I honestly don’t know. Cyrina’s on her way to talk to you about it,” she says before disappearing from the room.

  Something is wrong. I am not sure if Rana knows exactly what is going on or if she only suspects something. Either way, thinking something may have happened to Talia stirs a hallow sensation within me. The more I think about Talia, the worse I feel. The emptiness feels like it swallows me from the inside out. With everything that has happened, I do not know if I have the strength to continue on without her. Talia is my strength. I feel anger and despair all at once. Even worse, I am unable to do anything except lay here and wait to hear what has happened. The ceiling above me blurs as the tears fill my eyes.

  Sayda gets out of her bed, coming over to me. The intravenous line connected to her arm acts like a leash, keeping her from moving too far. She barely has enough slack to sit on the edge of my gurney.

  “I’m sure she’s fine. I bet she’s busy handling today’s set of emergencies and will come down soon,” Sayda says, placing her hand on my arm.

  Sayda’s explanation is plausible, even if it is unlikely. She has no way to know anything for sure, but somehow her words make me feel a little better. Even now with the two men Sayda cares for clinging to life in the other room, she still takes the time to comfort a friend. It reminds me that everything we are doing is more than just for ourselves. We need to remember all those we care for and borrow their strength to continue. That is something Sayda will never forget. Her determination is inspiring. I try to stay up with her, but exhaustion overwhelms me. I drift back to sleep.

  When my eyes open again, Sayda is gone, but I am not alone. Cyrina patiently sits with an overly perfect posture on the other gurney. She forces a smile to greet me.

  “Hello, Kagen. I’m so glad the Soldiers received my message before it was
too late. Rana tells me none of your injuries are permanent. I know Talia will be relieved when she hears the good news,” Cyrina says.

  “How does she not know?” I ask, straining to partially prop myself on one elbow.

  “As you know, the review is not complete yet. Not long after you left, Braeden contacted us. He insisted Talia immediately go to Caelum for the final hearing. She’s there now,” Cyrina says and then pauses, looking nervous.

  It looks like she has more to her bad news, but how could it get any worse?

  Chapter 31

  Cyrina’s news crumbles me back to the gurney even before she tells me the rest of it. Talia is alone in Caelum, facing the monster that killed her mother and threatens to do the same to the rest of Securus. What is worse than that? Like she was reading my mind, Cyrina continues, “And she isn’t alone. Since this was our only chance to get some intelligence on Caelum, Arluin and Seonah hid in her transport. They intend to access Caelum’s files and schematics from one of the internal computers.”

  My hands cover my eyes, as if they could keep me from the truth. This turn of events is worse than I feared. The timing of Talia’s trip makes it even more difficult on her because she will not know whether we made it back to Securus or not. Talia is a remarkably strong woman, but how much can one person endure before they break? Not only that, but my little brother stowed away with her and is roaming the halls of that wretched place. If they are caught, no leniency will be shown. Then again, if Braeden’s decision is against us, that would not matter anyway. So much rests on the erratic whims of The Controller.

  “Thank you for telling me. And for saving us in that tunnel,” I tell Cyrina.

  “You’re welcome,” she says before exiting the infirmary.

  When she is gone, I labor to get up. I must have been asleep for a while because my body shows some signs of improvement. Despite my joints feeling like they are locked in place, this time I am able to force some movement from them. I slowly sit up on the edge of the bed, nearly passing out from the effort. The more I move the more pain returns to my beaten body. My thigh and forearm both pulse with deep aches. I look down at my thigh. The whole thing is swollen and covered with the deep purple discoloration of a huge hematoma. The gash on my forearm has been repaired, though it does not feel any better.

  Ignoring the pain, I slide off the edge of the gurney and onto my feet. My legs nearly buckle before they finally respond and stabilize. It would be so much easier to collapse back onto my gurney, but doing so would make me feel ashamed. With Talia and Arluin showing so much strength and courage, the least I can do is get off of this gurney to do anything besides stare at the ceiling. Before I reach the door, an unexpected visitor arrives.

  “Tailyn, what are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I wanted you to know I had nothing to do with what my grandfather did.” Tailyn is barely able to look me in the eye. She stands with her hands held in front of her and eyes facing down while waiting for me to reply. Though there are many reasons to doubt her, deep down I feel she is telling the truth.

  “I believe you, but that’s something we can talk about later. There’s something else I need to do now.” I continue inching my way to the door.

  “Okay, but that’s not the only reason I came to see you. We finished testing the gruel. You were right. It’s definitely causing the Pellagra.” The matter of fact tone in her voice confuses me. I would expect her to be more excited to discover the answer. I stop my glacial speed march, waiting for her to explain.

  “The anomaly we found is complex. There are two components bound together making up the structure. The first is a very long acting and stable compound with an astonishingly high affinity for vitamin B3. It binds to large amounts of the vitamin, pulling it out of our bodies through the gastrointestinal tract. The other component is very different. Its structure is volatile and short acting. My testing shows it binds to the first compound, inactivating it. When we are not given a steady supply of it in our food, all of the protein deteriorates from the mix, allowing the first one to reactivate. So basically, we are ingesting both the poison and antidote at the same time, only the antidote wears off way before the poison does.”

  “So we stop eating the mix and synthesize the antidote for as long as we need to clear the poison,” I answer, figuring it sounds straight forward enough.

  “That’s the problem. The antidote is too unstable. Binding to the poison seems to be the only way to keep it from deteriorating. Many of them can bind to a single poison compound and remain viable, though it only takes one to deactivate it. I haven’t been able to keep the antidote stable long enough without the poison for it to be administered with any positive effect,” she says.

  Now I see what Wakil meant when he hinted at this before. Nothing with Caelum is ever simple. They are too devious to be overcome so easily. However, I am not so sure this will be as insurmountable as he seems to believe. Tailyn may have been approaching this the wrong way. Of course, everything depends on the review. That ever present shadow continues to linger over us, clouding our future. I do not know if our most recent encounter in the tunnel has affected Securus’ chances. All we can do is hope the inconvenience of replacing us is not worth it to Braeden or the Patron of Leadership.

  “I have an idea. Let me flush it out a bit. I’ll come by to work with you later. It’s only a matter of time. This will not stop us,” I tell her while resuming my walk at a torpid pace.

  Tailyn leaves me and returns to the Research Department. With her gone, the hallway is quiet and empty. I continue to the back of the infirmary, making my way to the intensive care unit. When reaching the doorway, my heart breaks from the scene before me. Hadwin and Radek both lie unconscious on separate gurneys, being sustained by life support systems. Sayda sits between the two gurneys with her back turned toward me, keeping a steadfast watch over them.

  Hadwin has been one of my closest friends for as long as I can remember. For me, imagining life in Securus without him is impossible. I have not known Radek for nearly as long, but we all owe our lives to his courage and selfless actions. Seeing them like this pains me. It must be even worse for Sayda. Both men care so much for her, and she is powerless to help either of them. Tears stream from my eyes. I lean against the doorway to keep from falling over. The sight of her heartache amplifies my own, making it almost too much to bear.

  None of the Healers are in here at the moment. Adara must be allowing Sayda to spend time with them alone. No doubt, she remains close by in case the condition of either of her patients change. I gather enough strength to hobble over and pull a chair next to Sayda.

  “We’ll get them through this,” I say. She looks up just long enough to give an appreciative look through her teary eyes.

  Hadwin looks peaceful. His color has returned, and the jagged wound on his leg has been repaired. The damage was severe, not only from the direct injury, but from dehydration combined with a lack of oxygen to his system. How well his mind and body will function cannot be predicted until he wakes up. If he wakes up, the voice in the back of my head reminds me.

  Radek’s wounds have also been repaired. He has a bandage coving the larger one from the Soldier’s gun on his left flank. Unfortunately, he looks much worse off than Hadwin right now. We can only do so much to help them. Like the rest of Securus, only time will reveal their fate.

  *

  The next day I am finally allowed to return to my own quarters. Another day after that passes and still, no word comes from Talia. My quarters usually feel cozy and warm, but without Talia here, that sense disappears. Now it is merely a cold, empty box.

  Since I have not been mobile enough to hunt down the rest of the poison boxes, Taig leads a team to use Hadwin’s tracker to find them. Each box is carefully disabled, keeping the signal in place so Caelum will never know they have been manipulated. With that being taken care of, my time is spent waiting. I wait to heal. I wait for Hadwin and Radek to show any signs of progress. I wait for any w
ord of how Talia and my brother are doing. On top of it all, I wait for the final verdict of Caelum’s review.

  With some of my strength returning, today I am able to return to the Research Department. As expected, Tailyn tirelessly works on a way past the poison in our food inside the lab.

  “Any luck?” I ask while walking into the room.

  “No, I can’t get this antidote stable,” she says. “I’m running out of ideas.”

  “Well, if Caelum went through all that trouble to make the antidote volatile, why fight it?” Tailyn turns to me with confusion, so I continue. “They made the poison overly stable so it will be long lasting right? We use that against them. Instead of focusing on making the antidote viable, we work on altering the poison itself. If it’s that stable it should tolerate subtle manipulation much better than antidote.”

  “I like that idea.” As she replies, Tailyn is already in motion. She gathers more supplies to work on the new plan. “If we can alter it just enough to decrease its efficacy, we could use the weaker version as a carrier to safely administer the antidote. It could work, but that’ll take a while to accomplish.”

  “That’s fine. If I learned anything from our unexpected trip into the forest, it’s that we aren’t yet prepared for what’s up there. We need the time to find a way to make any settlement on the surface safe,” I say.

  Tailyn glances back at me before getting back to work. “Good luck explaining that to the rest of Securus.”

  “That’s what Talia’s for.” My words make me wince as they come out. I need to stay strong for Talia, but the longer it to hear from her, the harder that becomes. The constant uncertainty is draining. The only thing keeping me from being paralyzed by it is remembering something Talia told me before; the only way we can ever be free is if we continue to plan and work toward it, regardless of how futile our efforts may seem. If we allow ourselves to be debilitated by fear or uncertainty, we will never move forward. Then we would always remain the prisoners of Caelum.