Reign: Populations Crumble, Book 3

by K. A. Gandy

  “Lovebirds, get your feathered butts over here before Glitch has a conniption.” Nell interrupts our bubble of happiness and, after lingering in each other’s arms a moment more, we both turn in her direction, at the base of the plane’s stairs. Glitch does indeed appear troubled as he futzes with another little device, one we haven’t seen before.

  Atlas looks confused as he walks back from the front of the plane, leaving Mav to finish the inspection alone. “What’s a conniption?”

  Nell rolls her eyes to the heavens. “Seriously? What is with you northerners? A conniption! You know, a fit. A freak out. A call-the-people-with-butterfly-nets moment? I really have to get this one home to Georada for an education when this is all over with,” she says to me while pointing at him with her thumb, and shakes her head in bemusement. He actually looks sheepish, and it’s adorable.

  Patrick and I have made it to the base of the stairs, and Glitch sighs in relief. “Good, we don’t have time to mosey, people. Nell, quit hassling your husband and get up here. I need to turn on the sound blocker, and your elementary flirting can wait.”

  My eyebrows nearly fly off my face, they shoot so high. Glitch is never that snippy, even in the middle of an operation. As soon as we’re all inside the cabin, he presses the lone button on the top of a small blue device, and a blue rectangle of light shoots out onto the curved wall. Atlas hustles over and snatches the window cover down, so the shot is clear. When Nell closes the door, he presses the button on his favorite noise blocker before pressing the blue button again on the projector.

  Where before there was a blue square, a live feed of the Resistance’s conference room, Helena on the far left of the screen, pops into place. Noise comes from the device, and she’s droning on about fuel cell locations. Brock looks murderous, and some sort of green blob is in the upper right corner.

  Atlas’s voice is wary, “Glitch, what did you do?”

  “Hold on, they’ve already changed subjects. They’re just going over their next supply run route now. That’s not the problem.” The images on the screen flicker rapidly as he taps on his tablet like a demented chicken. “Ahh, here. This is the problem.”

  The image snaps back into place, and he grumbles under his breath, “I can’t believe my aim was off. Now we’re going to have to watch everything to the left. So annoying.”

  “How did you even do this, Glitch?” Patrick interjects his ramble to ask.

  “Oh, remember when I knocked over the plant a while back? Well, I had a feeling they were up to something fishy, so I planted a little trinket into the pot when I shoved the soil back in. It’s blackish brown, so it's really hard to spot in the middle of dirt. Invented it myself!”

  “Glitch, shh.” Nell bats a hand in his direction, eyes riveted to the makeshift screen where Helena is speaking.

  “It’s obvious they’re making an exit strategy—I don’t buy for a minute that this little health mission today was all humanitarian. There’s only one known polymorph on the planet, and you think we’re just going to let this opportunity pass by? No. We need eyes on them around the clock when they’re back, and we have to get her into our testing program. No more of this catching us by surprise and running off to meet with the enemy and plotting their own safe houses. We need them here, where we can keep an eye on them. Besides, our scientists are just as good as those at the NAA, there’s no reason we couldn’t leapfrog them, and make a breakthrough sooner. We need as much genetic material as we can get.” Helena’s words shouldn’t shock me, but they hit me like a lightning bolt to the core, nonetheless. Cold feels like it’s seeping up from my toes as she laughs. “Can you imagine if we got an egg or two? God, the genetics lab could have a field day with that. A couple of super-eggs, our best sperm donor, and we’d be set. Nobody would catch our research team, and when we had the science on our side, we could take the entire Americas.” A slow grin crawls across her features, and I begin to feel faint.

  “Somehow I think the sperm donor you’ve got in mind might protest, given recent events,” Brock says bitterly, and I realize they’re talking about Pierce. My stomach rolls over into a knot at how wrong it all is. “Also, I think you’re forgetting that our genetic testing program is voluntary, and there’s no way she’ll sign up for it.”

  Helena’s mouth pinches angrily at the reminder of her no-longer-lover, and she narrows her eyes at him. “Voluntary for Resistance members, but I think it’s about time our guests contributed something to the cause, don’t you? If she doesn’t volunteer, we’ll just make her do it. She’s one girl, and this kind of research is for the good of humanity. Honestly, Brock—I hope you’re not going soft on me, are you?” She stares him down in challenge.

  He clenches his jaw, and I can see the rage in his steely eyes, but he doesn’t immediately respond to her goading.

  A voice off-screen says something, but my ears are ringing, and I can’t make out the words no matter how hard I try. I sway on my feet. Patrick’s voice comes through deep water, and I can’t make out the words.

  Panicked voices surround me, Nell’s higher-pitched voice rising above the rest cuts through, “Sadie, BREATHE.”

  I suck in a lungful of air, and next thing I know, I’m on my butt in the middle of the aisle, staring up at four very concerned faces.

  “Don’t you dare pass out; we are not in some lame romance movie!” Nell shakes my shoulder, and I swat her hand away.

  “I’m fine, I just lost my balance,” I protest, but she just mutters in response.

  “That’s what I’d say, too,” Atlas rumbles in amusement.

  Patrick is hovering over me, a concerned look on his face as he extends a hand to help me back to my feet. “I won’t let them touch you, Sadie. I swear it. We’ll leave right now and come up with another plan to deal with the women in the rest of the facilities on our own. Our safe house is nearby, and my father’s on board.”

  “The butterflies . . .” I whisper, my private name for the women tumbling from my lips.

  “Morbid, Sadie.” Glitch immediately catches my reference to the bugs pinned on a science board. “But not altogether inaccurate.” He pushes his glasses further up his nose with one finger and turns back to the impromptu screen.

  “. . . we’ll have to separate her from the others, but I don’t imagine that will be a problem.” This time it’s Brock who’s speaking. “If we have to, we’ll invite them along on our next mission, and we’ll cause a riot along their route—something big. There’s no way the men will agree to let them go once we tell them it’s too dangerous, and Branch says her little friend is easily distracted.” He snorts. “It’s utterly ridiculous. These four are supposed to be the ones rocking the foundations of the government? Hardly. You’ll have a new set of puppets, more like. But still, if you get her alone and cornered, she’ll probably consent to the testing.”

  “I always did love dolls, as a girl.” Helena looks down at a nail, and picks at her cuticle as if thinking about old times.

  “So, the next supply run it is, then. According to her medical file, she should be due for a pregnancy check soon. We’ll just tell Prince Charming that he can’t take his future offspring into danger.” Brock leans back in his chair and flops a booted foot onto the table as if he owns the place.

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to be a mother. Maybe we’ll lift the eggs, and I’ll be the surrogate. Who’s better qualified to raise them? They’ll have superior genes and superior training—we’ll be able to breed our own super-soldiers.” She looks pleased with herself, and I feel the urge to vomit all over the plane.

  Her tinkling laugh is joined by several other voices around the room, and the cold I’d felt before is replaced with boiling hot fury.

  Glitch taps his screen again, and the image vanishes as quickly as it appeared. “The rest is just more laughing and then they start talking about the riot portion of the plan. I’ll spare you the coronaries. Obviously, we need to re-group here.”

  “Forget re-group, w
e need to get out. Immediately.” Patrick’s tone is all business.

  “That poses a problem, given that Maverick was going to be our transport. Also, we don’t have anywhere to go. Paige is occupying the only safe house we’re close enough to reach before we’re caught.” Leave it to Atlas to be the voice of reason.

  “Did you not just hear them planning to split us up and perform medical tests on Sadie? Take her eggs, fertilize them, and implant them into Helena?” He’s yelling, and I lay a calming hand on his arm.

  “Patrick, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Good Lord A’mighty, what is going on?” Mav’s voice from behind us causes us to turn in horrified unison.

  “Mav, how long have you been standing there,” Atlas asks slowly, the dangerous undertone in his voice causing the hairs on the back of my arms to stand up.

  “Long enough to know somethin’ ain’t right, and you five are about to do some explainin’.” She crosses her arms over her chest and stares us down without flinching. If I wasn’t in a full panic, I’d have been impressed by her mettle.

  “Mav, this doesn’t have to concern you, just let us go, and we’ll figure something out.” Patrick tries a soothing tone.

  “Oh now, you know I didn’t just fall off the truck last night. Something’s bad wrong, and I ain’t moving unless you give me the story. Right here, right now. Because from what I just heard, well, it sounds like the Queen Bee done gone off the deep end. And that’s a whole lotta bad for a whole lotta innocent folks, starting with you, Sadie.”

  We exchange a long glance, and Glitch backs the footage up to the beginning, and presses play again. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose until it’s over.

  Mav sits down hard in one of the seats, shock plain on her dark features. She tugs lightly at the bottom of her close-cropped curls. “Y’all got a safe place to go? Or did you just give it to that poor sick pregnant woman?”

  Atlas’s grim expression must tell her all she needs to know because she nods once, sharply.

  “A’right then, here’s what we’re gone’ do. You five are going to buckle up, and we’re going to fuel up for a longer flight.” She gets back to her feet slowly, and gazes around at each of us. “What’s the hold up? Sit down, we’ve got to get a move on! This isn’t one of those things you can sit on all day, and hope for rainbows. You gotta move, and move now or they’ll be coming after us, and we need a head start.”

  “Where are you going to take us, Mav? If you don’t take us back to Helena, she’s going to be after you, too.”

  “Honey, that’s a whole lotta evil. And you five, you’re good people. You can’t even help yo’selves right now, and you’re helping others. I see that, and anybody with a brain in their head sees that. Helena, she’s always been something else, but she wasn’t evil, not before. What I just saw on that video, that’s evil. And besides, I know a place, and it sounds like y’all need one to lay up for a while.”

  Tears prick the back of my eyes, and her unexpected kindness robs me of words. Nell steps forward and wraps her in a hug.

  Startled, Mav pats her a few times on the back, wide-eyed. “Okay now, Nell, you go on and sit yourself down. I ain’t kiddin’, we got to move.”

  And so, we did.

  Zanetti

  While grateful to Mav for stepping up, I still had a smidgen of doubt that she’d risk everything to take us to safety. When I woke to Patrick shaking my shoulder and there was nothing out the window but snow and solid ice as far as the eye can see, worry prickled that something had gone horribly wrong. But when she flies us directly over an ice-encrusted volcanic caldera, my jaw drops. “Patrick, where are we?” I rub my eyes, wiping away the sleep.

  “Alaska Territories, I think. Just based on the time we’ve been in the air, and the mountain ranges. You’ve been asleep a long time.”

  “Patrick, how are we supposed to survive up here? Back home, the rumors are that the people up here are a little crazy, and there's only one surviving settlement, as far as I know.”

  “The closers don’t come up this far, so they’ve established their own cities organically,” Atlas volunteers. “Not much is known about them, except that they’re the last true survivors on the continent. Everyone else has eventually turned to the NAA government for infrastructure aid, but they haven’t. It’s mind-boggling, given the harsh conditions. It’s also, unfortunately, one of the few places I don’t already have a contact.”

  Glitch looks concerned when he asks, “You weren’t able to insert someone into their community?”

  Atlas snorts in derision, “I wasn’t able to find their community to insert someone. I’m not convinced a community still exists up here. My best researchers couldn’t find a single trace of humanity, let alone reach anyone.”

  Nerves knot my stomach. “So, where is she taking us?’

  As we approach a peak just to the side of the volcano I feel the lurch of descent, and I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. If she leaves us out here, it’s game over.

  My eyes find Patrick’s, and I find my concern mirrored there.

  “Holy cats on Christmas, look at that!” Nell exclaims. I whip back around towards the window and can’t believe my eyes. As we descend, a gaping maw opens in the side of the peak, snow disappearing through the new opening.

  Mav guides us smoothly through the opening, and as we touchdown with a gentle bump the doorway above is already closing over us. Within ninety seconds, everything around is pitch black, and the plane’s lights only carry a few feet before the enveloping blackness prevails.

  The sound of the cockpit door opening startles us from our shock, and we turn as one to gawk at Mav.

  “Where the heck are we?” Nell is the first to ask.

  Mav’s smile is slow to spread, and she stretches stiff shoulders before answering. “I brought you to meet my auntie.”

  “Your auntie?” I ask, confused.

  “Come on, y’all. You’re gone’ like her.” She presses her hand against the panel that operates the exterior door, and the stairs automatically descend. Without waiting for a response, she plods down into the darkness.

  “There’s nothing else for it,” Atlas says with resignation, and follows her out. My feet have just touched the bottom stair when Mav yells at the top of her lungs, “Auntie, turn on the lights! It’s Maverick.” The sound echoes dully in the space around us, and it gives me the sense we’re in an underground cavern of some kind.

  A wizened voice comes from the darkness, the direction unclear. “My niece has a name, but it isn’t Maverick.”

  Mav sighs. “Fine, Auntie. Please turn the lights on, it’s Maeve,” she mutters a curse under her breath at the indignation of having to use her given name.

  Lights at floor level flick on all around us, and the actual breadth of the cavern shocks me. There is a full-on airport under here. In my entire life, I’ve never been inside a man-made space this large. The five of us stand in stunned silence as an older black woman with pure white hair in waist-length braids strides out of the gloom towards us. Her speed belies her apparent age, as she moves with the grace of a much younger woman. A long maroon skirt swishes about her bare feet, and her smile is warm, and genuine as she embraces Mav. Maeve.

  “Good to see you, sweet niece of mine,” she croons, as if talking to a baby and not the capable, formidable woman that I know her niece to be.

  Rather than complain, Maeve responds in kind, “It’s wonderful to see you, my beautiful Auntie.” Exchanging wide smiles, they turn to face us, and I see the strong familial resemblance despite their opposite styles and attitudes.

  Mav’s auntie strides forward and sweeps her hands out wide at her sides. “Welcome to Zanetti!” she booms, and a thunderous cheer surrounds us, echoes unearthly in the enclosed space.

  My grip on Patrick’s arm is tight, and I am overwhelmed and awed, unable to speak. Eventually, relative silence returns to the cavern, but the sounds of people can be heard nearby.

  “
We were not expecting you for months, Maeve. Who are these strays you’ve dragged to my doorstep?” She inclines her head kindly towards us, taking the sting out of her words.

  “Auntie, it’s a long story. One we should take somewhere quiet.” She drops her voice low, aware of the amazing acoustics in the under-mountain airport. “Besides, these folks have had a real’ rough day. They could use some Zanetti hospitality.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Friends of peace are always welcome at our home-fires. Before I grant you access to our home, you must agree to the rules.” She continues without waiting for us to respond, “You must walk with peace amongst the Zanetti people; you must leave your knowledge of Zanetti behind you when you go; and you must think first of others, always. If you cannot do this, we will bring you sustenance and send you back on your way with kindness in our hearts.” Her pronunciation is firm.

  Patrick steps forward and extends his hand to her. “My name is Patrick Royce, and we appreciate your hospitality. On behalf of my party, we accept your terms, and I will add another. We will take nothing from Zanetti that we do not intend to return in kind, when we are able, Mrs. . . . ?” He looks at Mav, who nods in acceptance of his promise.

  “You may call me Auntie.”

  Without missing a beat, Patrick responds, “Thank you, Auntie.”

  “I should accept nothing less of one of Maeve’s strays. And I’m always glad when she brings them to us.” She turns and tosses more words over her shoulder as she leads us from the great cavern, and down a gently sloping path. “It’s the only way I get a visit, most of the time.”

  Maeve scoffs, “I fly out here every year. I’m gone’ start complaining that you never leave your hill to come and visit me, Auntie.”

  I loosen the top of my jacket, surprised at the steamy warmth permeating the air. After a moment’s indecision, I take it off and sigh at the glorious balminess. I don’t know how they’ve done it, but they’ve created a blissful cocoon under a mountain range laden with snow. We twist and turn down the gently sloping path, crossing many switchbacks as we descend into the mountain. The weight of the rock above looms, giving me a hint of anxiety if I allow my mind to wander there. Luckily, the sights and sounds here are endlessly diverting, so I don’t have time to dwell on it.