Viktor looks up, startled when we walk in. "You made it."
"You didn't know we were here?" I raise my brows.
"The cameras are still down," Sven reminds me.
I frown. "Get someone on them right away. The security system has to be in working order by day's end. It's the first thing the Sweepers would restore. We need to start thinking like them if we're going to pull this off."
I turn my attention back to Viktor. "Is Jerome down in Terminus?"
"No." Viktor flicks a finger over his mole. "He's ... sick. He must have picked up something from the deviations. Their immune systems were compromised by their stay in the city. They were never successfully enhanced so they're susceptible to everything."
I suck in a silent breath. "Where is he?"
Viktor blinks around at us.
I flinch when The Ghost suddenly slams his forearm to Viktor's windpipe. "Tell her," he growls, "before I squeeze it out of you."
"Medical Sektor," Viktor wheezes out. "He ... needed fluids."
"I was there a few minutes ago," Sven says. "I didn't see him."
"He's in Sektor Sieben. We're keeping him isolated." Viktor drops his gaze, squeezing his hands in front of him. A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead.
My stomach churns with dread. Whatever Jerome has, it has nothing to do with the deviations and everything to do with what Viktor's been hiding from us. I turn to The Ghost. "Stay here and don't let Viktor out of your sight until we get back."
Trout and I race through the gleaming tunnels after Sven. I'm not sure what Viktor's up to, but I only hope we manage to reach Jerome before it's too late. He must have found out whatever it is that Viktor's been trying to hide from us.
Sven punches the entry code into the keypad outside Sektor Sieben. The doors swing wide and we walk through the entry door. A scientist in a hazard suit and mask jumps up from behind a desk. "You can't come in here. We have a deviation in quarantine."
"Where is he?" I say, glancing around.
The cubicles are lying open, empty of their macabre participants, except for one. I race over and peer through the viewing monitor into the room. Dread fills my lungs like glue.
Jerome lies motionless on a gurney, eyes sealed shut, a single drip line in his arm. For a moment, I think he's dead. Then his chest rises and falls. My knees almost buckle beneath me with relief. "He's breathing," I whisper.
Sven pushes open the door. The scientist follows us inside, flustered and still protesting, but reluctant to confront Sven.
"Jerome! Can you hear me?" I shake his arm gently, but he doesn't respond.
Sven checks the bag of fluid and mutters something under his breath.
"What's wrong?" Trout asks.
"Bag's punctured," Sven replies. "They're not just giving him fluids. Someone's drugging him."
The scientist stares wide-eyed at the bag. "That's not possible."
"Who else has been in here?" I ask.
"No one. Just me and Viktor Kozlov."
Sven and I trade glances.
"Get the needle out of his arm!" I order the scientist.
She throws an uneasy glance Sven's way, then bends over and deftly disconnects the drip line.
"You must have something here to counteract the drug with," Sven says to her.
She gives a worried nod and retrieves a syringe and a vial from a shelf at the back of the room. Seconds stretch into eternity as we watch her turn the vial upside down, pull back the plunger and fill the syringe.
I step out of her way and grit my teeth as she sticks the needle into a vein in his arm.
Seconds later, Jerome lets out a gasp. His eye snaps open and fastens on me. His lips move, but nothing comes out.
I lean over him. "It's okay, Jerome. Take it easy."
"Viktor." He enunciates the name slowly like his tongue is thick and clumsy, finding its bearings again.
"What about him?" Sven says.
Jerome takes a long, rasping breath. "He didn't ... intercept the transmission ... he sent it."
13
My brain fills with static.
Viktor set us up!
Trout glances at me, his eyes clouding with fear. "You know what this means."
I grimace. "There is no delegation and no audit. The Sweepers are coming for us."
I grab the scientist by the arm. "Stay here with Jerome. Don't let anyone in. We'll be back as soon as we can."
"If anything happens to him you'll answer to me," Sven warns her.
She gives a nervous nod, her face pale.
"We're screwed," Trout says, as we race back along the tunnels to the Research Sektor. "Viktor knows everything about our plan. Even the city's not safe now. He knows the entire layout, our security system."
"We still have a week before the delegation arrives to come up with a new plan," Sven says.
"Maybe not," I say. "If Viktor lied about why the Sweepers are coming, he might have lied about when they're coming too."
When we arrive back at the Research Sektor Viktor is slumped in a chair clutching the side of his head.
"He tried to access the CommCenter," The Ghost says. "I had no choice but to clock him one."
I walk over to Viktor, grab him by the shoulder and yank him upright.
"You sent a transmission to the Megamedes, didn't you?" I yell at him. "You told the Sweepers to come here."
Viktor's eyes dart back and forth, searching for Sven and The Ghost in his peripheral vision. "No! It's not what you think. I can explain everything."
Sven rolls up his sleeves and flexes a meaty fist. "Go right ahead, Doctor."
Viktor drops his gaze. "I sent a message to my son."
"Your son is on board the Megamedes?" Trout says, an incredulous look on his face.
Viktor shakes his head. "No. He's at an outpost. The Megamedes ordered a delegation from his outpost to conduct the audit."
"You mean the Megamedes isn't coming here?" I say.
Viktor shakes his head. "They'll remain in orbit until the delegation determines that there's no risk to the sovereign leader."
I lean back against the counter behind me, my heart sinking. "What did you tell your son?"
"Viktor glances around nervously. "I told him the truth. He's agreed to go along with our plan and take me back with him when the delegation leaves." He hesitates. "I haven't seen Dimitri, my son, in over a decade. Family members weren't allowed to collaborate on classified research projects. They even changed his last name to Petrov so I couldn't trace him." He stares straight at me, his eyes moistening. "That's the real reason I hacked into Lyong's records, to find Dimitri."
"What kind of research was your son working on?" Trout asks.
Viktor raises his head and stares at him for a moment. "Ossification."
My heartbeat flickers. I can't help but throw a glance in Sven's direction. He furrows his brow, but he won't meet my eyes.
I turn back to Viktor. "You said there were rumors of a breakthrough?"
"Yes." Viktor throws Sven a wary look. "But no confirmation yet."
"Lyong was planning to take Sook there," I say. "That's all the confirmation I need."
The Ghost folds his arms. "Now who's getting ahead of herself? Don't forget about the audit."
Viktor gingerly touches the side of his head. "I think we can pull it off with my son's help."
"There's only one problem," I say. "I can't let you go back to the outpost with him afterward."
Viktor blinks rapidly. "But I haven't seen–"
"I know, but we agreed that you would man the CommCenter in case the Megamedes makes contact." I drum my fingers on the counter. "There may be another way for you and your son to stay together."
"How?" Viktor asks.
"We can inform the delegation that an order has come in requiring them to remain here and oversee the restoration of the Craniopolis to full operational capacity."
Trout frowns. "And what do we tell the outpost?"
"Exactly w
hat they want to hear. We send them a glowing inspection report stating that everything is under control and that the delegation is returning."
I grin at Sven. "Then you can use Won's remote and your computer-hacking magic to stage a spectacular Hovermedes crash in the most inaccessible part of the Wilderness of No Return. After that, Viktor and his son, and the rest of the delegation can either join us voluntarily or remain here as our hostages."
Sven rumples his brow. "It's a bold plan, but it might just work."
The Ghost lets out a snort. "Or blow up in our faces. Why are you so gung-ho on helping the doc with his sappy family reunion anyway?"
Viktor twitches with apprehension as he eyes The Ghost's clenched fists.
"If we're going to save the clones, we need his son's expertise," I say.
Viktor rubs his brow, his eyes riddled with doubt. "The crash will have to be convincing. If the outpost suspects even for a minute that my son's alive, they'll stop at nothing to find him."
"Sven can be very convincing," I say. "In the meantime, I need you to get busy doing whatever it takes to put the Research Sektor back on track: scheduling shifts, updating records, repairing damaged equipment, restocking inventory, that kind of thing."
Viktor purses his lips. "Even if we pass the audit they'll send another delegation once they realize the Craniopolis hasn't returned to normal operations."
"Then your job will be to supply them with a steady stream of bogus production reports and put them off for as long as possible," I say. "Now get started. We've only got a week to straighten this place out."
I turn to The Ghost. "Stay here and keep an eye on Viktor. Sven and I will work out the rest of the details with Jerome."
The Ghost bars his arms across his chest. "Not so fast. Either I go with you or you don't get your warm bodies for the Intake Sektor."
I mull it over for a moment and give a reluctant nod. I'm low on extras for this production so I have little choice but to pacify him.
By the time we return to Sektor Sieben Jerome is gone.
"He wouldn't listen to me," the distraught scientist says, backing as far away from Sven as possible. "As soon as he could stand without assistance he took off down the corridor to Terminus."
I turn to the others. "He still thinks Viktor betrayed us. We need to stop him before he does something he regrets."
"This way," Sven says, racing back out into the main tunnel. "Let's hope we get there in time."
The etched sign over the steel entryway to the deviations' living quarters reads Terminus. I shudder. A sadistic gesture on the Sweepers' part. An Optika module whirs into action, tracking our approach. I steel myself for what I'm about to encounter. I've only ever seen Terminus depicted in a hologram display, and that was disturbing enough. Even Sven's never been down here before. According to Jerome, over one hundred and fifty deviations call this place home, but the entryway has more of a mausoleum vibe than a welcoming aura. Sven taps a code into the key panel and the retractable doors slide apart.
Inside, the lighting is even more muted than in the other Sektors. Only the sound of our footsteps and the occasional groan disturbs the suffocating silence that envelops us. I know from talking to Jerome that this is how the deviations prefer it. Back in the city they would often plug their ears or moan in distress when people burst out laughing or raised their voices. The deviations are sensitive to too much stimulation--one of many debilitating genetic impairments caused by the cloning process.
I glance around at the main living area. The pod chairs are made of the same material as those in the Biotik Sektor, but they're outfitted with an assortment of trapeze handles and lift mechanisms to assist the malformed deviations in and out.
Eyes follow us everywhere, bulging, bloodshot, misaligned, sunken hollows of sadness. Some of the deviations have a curious look on their asymmetrical faces, some seem perturbed by our presence while others blankly track our movements across the room without any apparent recognition of what it is they're looking at. A few, like Jerome, have a higher than average level of intelligence, despite their macabre appearances, and some even exchange a greeting with us as we go by. I keep an eye out for the deviation who helped me when I lost my way during the fire in the tunnels, but I don't see her in any of the groups as we go by. A pang of sadness goes through me when I realize that she might have expired. I wish I'd had the chance to thank her properly. She was astute and kindhearted, despite her disturbing appearance and her struggle to articulate words.
I throw a curious glance over my shoulder at a deviation who's haltingly following a few steps behind us. At first, I can't figure out what it is about us that fascinates her so much, but then I catch her, head cocked to one side, ogling the artwork running up the side of The Ghost's neck. I suppress a laugh when I realize how uncomfortable her proximity is making The Ghost.
"She probably thinks you were cloned that way," I whisper to him.
His face flushes. "Vermin! The lot of them. They should be exterminated."
"They have better hearts than you or I could ever hope for. One of them saved my life."
The Ghost casts a scathing glance around. "If their insides are as messed up as their outsides, they don't even have hearts!"
"Not that different from them after all then, are you?" Trout pipes up.
The Ghost scowls at him.
"You're not heartless." I look The Ghost square in the eye. "You saved Izzy and Brock. I think you're afraid of the deviations' deformities."
He turns away before I can see what his eyes are saying.
"There's Jerome!" Sven interrupts. He points to the back of the room where Jerome is seated at the head of a large table, deep in conversation with several other deviations. Relief floods his face when he sees us approaching.
We pull up some more chairs and join him at the table.
"You scared us half to death disappearing like that." Sven squeezes Jerome's shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I was worried about you," Jerome says. "We were making contingency plans to storm the Research Sektor and rescue you." He forks his fingers through his hair, a perplexed look on his face. "I can't believe Viktor betrayed us like that."
"It's not what you think," I say. "He told us everything."
The deviations seated around the table trade dubious glances.
"He sent a transmission to the outpost where his son works," I explain. "Viktor told him what happened here, and about our plan."
"What plan?" Jerome asks, frowning.
"The outpost is sending a delegation to conduct an audit of the Craniopolis. We're going to dupe them into thinking that Won staged a coup here. Viktor's son has agreed to go along with it."
Jerome scowls. "We can't trust Viktor. He drugged me up in Sektor Sieben like one of his wretched participants."
"He needed you out of the way temporarily." I sigh and rub my forehead. "He was afraid you were going to expose him for sending an unauthorized transmission. He knew you thought he ordered the audit. What Viktor did to you was wrong, but he was desperate to be with his son again."
"He treated me like one of his science experiments." Jerome pounds a fist on the table. "We have only his word that it's even his son he's been talking to."
"I believe him," I say. "He was trying to hold back tears when he talked about him."
"We're wasting time," Sven says. "We need to commit to a plan of action before it's too late."
"All right." Jerome frowns. "Just keep him out of my sight. What do you want the deviations to do?"
"They can handle sanitation, maintenance, food preparation," I reply. "Put them back on a schedule servicing the Craniopolis."
Jerome looks around for approval at the other deviations seated at the table and then gives a reluctant nod.
"I'll put the cameras back online." Sven turns to Jerome. "I can access the system from here, right?"
Jerome scoots his chair out from the table. "Follow me."
Trout and I stand, and
The Ghost gets to his feet as well. "What?" he says when I arch a brow in his direction. "I'm not staying here with these underworld creatures by myself."
I throw him a scathing look and follow Jerome and the others into a small office.
Sven gets to work bringing up a myriad of cameras on a large plexi-screen. He zooms in on Viktor hunched over his desk in the Research Sektor, and chuckles. "He's working diligently on his chore list. That's a good sign."
He swipes his fingers across a projected keyboard and studies the screen for a moment. "This is interesting." He frowns. "Viktor really has been busy. He's declassified all the records."
Sven scrolls a little further and comes to an abrupt stop.
"What?" Jerome eyes him with apprehension.
Sven rubs a hand across his jaw. "I found our inception records."
14
Jerome places a hairy palm on the hologram keyboard. "Don't do this."
Sven turns to him, his face rigid with shock. "I have a right to know."
Jerome shakes his head. "Why torture yourself with the days you have left?"
"His choice," Trout says. "I'd want to know if it were me."
The Ghost peers over Sven's shoulder. "What's the big find?"
"Inception records. They document the date we were cloned." Jerome grimaces. "No clone's ever had an expiration date past twenty-five units."
The Ghost's eyes glitter. "Can't say I'll be crying to be rid of the lot of you."
I glare at him. "No one's going to be crying at your funeral either."
Sven fixes his gaze on Jerome. ""I want to know. It's important to me."
Jerome tightens his lips and reluctantly withdraws his hand. "Leave me out of it."
Sven hits a few strokes on the hologram keyboard. He frowns at the lines of records scrolling down the screen.
I stare at the baffling array of data hoping to catch a glimpse of Sven's name, but everything is numbers and code.
After a few minutes, Sven keys in a combination and the screen goes blank.
"Did you find it?" The words tumble out as I turn to him. My bottom lip trembles as an overwhelming fear grips me. "Do you–"
Judgement: The Undergrounders Series Book Three (A Young Adult Post-apocalyptic Science Fiction Thriller) Page 9
