Rise of the Elgen (16 page)

“I
hate boats,” Hatch said, wiping his forehead with a gold-monogrammed handkerchief. The boat he was
hating
was a superyacht with all the luxuries befitting a $450 million vessel: a helipad, two current-jetted swimming pools, and an art gallery that included two van Goghs, three Escher lithographs, and a Rembrandt (the chairman had a penchant for Dutch artists). There were luxury suites for eighteen and an exclusive dining room with crystal chandeliers and scarlet wool carpet interwoven with twenty-four-karat gold thread. The yacht also featured some less luxuriant but interesting add-ons, including radar, sonar, and surface-to-air missiles.

Hatch was prone to seasickness, and although he understood the necessity of moving the Elgen corporate headquarters to international waters, he would have preferred the ship to remain docked in some obscure bay off the coast of Africa or the Philippines. The two
electric teens seated next to him in the waiting room looked at him sympathetically.

“Would you like me to help?” Tara said, tapping her temple. “I could make you feel better.”

Hatch shook his head. “No. I’ve got to keep my wits about me. I’m sensing trouble.”

Tara had traveled with Hatch and the rest of the kids from Pasadena to Rome, where they left the others behind, helicoptering to the Elgen’s yacht a hundred miles north of Sicily—in the Tyrrhenian Sea. The other teen, Torstyn, had joined them in Rome. Torstyn had spent the last nineteen months on assignment in Peru and, at Hatch’s command, had flown directly to Italy.

Tara knew Torstyn—all the Elgen teens were familiar with one another—but she hadn’t seen him in a long time and he had changed. His skin was darker from the South American sun, and his hair was long and wild. His personality had changed as well. Something about him frightened her.

“How long will we be here?” Torstyn asked, his hand extended toward the hundred-gallon saltwater aquarium built into the wall in front of them.

“Only as long as we need to be,” Hatch said.

“Stop it!” Tara said.

“Stop
what
?” Torstyn asked, grinning.

“You know
what
. You killed the fish.”

Torstyn had boiled the water in the aquarium from fifteen feet away. Two exotic angelfish were now floating on top of the water.

“They’re just fish,” Torstyn said. “Same thing you ate last night.”

“Actually,” Hatch said. “They were rare peppermint angelfish, found only in the waters of Rarotonga, in the South Pacific. I gave them to the chairman as a gift last year. They run about twenty-five thousand dollars apiece.”

Torstyn frowned. “Sorry, sir.”

“Ask next time.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hatch looked at him coolly, then asked, “How long did it take you?”

“About forty seconds.”

“Good. I want you to get it down to twenty.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then ten.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hatch nodded. “At ten you’ll be unstoppable.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Hatch went back to his e-reader. He’d been reading a book on mind control written in the late fifties by William Sargant, a British psychiatrist. He had already read the book several times. He was fascinated with the subject and had studied all aspects of mind control from hypnosis to suicide cults.

A slender, well-dressed woman in her midthirties walked into the waiting room. “Excuse me, Dr. Hatch?”

Hatch looked up.

“The board is ready to see you now.”

Hatch stood, tossing his reader on the sofa cushion next to Tara. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Torstyn asked.

“No, you’re not invited.” He walked to the conference room door, then turned back. “But stay alert.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, almost in unison.

Hatch straightened his tie, then walked into the conference room. An Elgen guard stood on each side of the door. Neither of them saluted him. The guards on the boat were the only ones in the company who never saluted Hatch. He walked past them into the room.

The boardroom was bright and the walls were covered with stainless steel tiles. Recessed directional lighting illuminated the art on the wall—large, black pictures with red, abstract silhouettes, images that looked more like inkblot tests than art. The shape of the room was trapezoidal; one entered in at the smaller end and broadening out in the rear. The outer wall, to Hatch’s right, was made of thick, protective glass, forming an eight-foot-tall window looking out over the crested waves sixty feet below.

The table in the middle of the room was twenty-seven feet long and made of rare Brazilian rosewood, with brushed stainless steel trim around the edge. The table was surrounded by twelve high-backed chairs upholstered in black Italian leather and spaced every few feet. All of the chairs were filled except for two, one next to the chairman and one at the opposite end of the table, which was usually reserved for visitors.

The board was split evenly between men and women—all over fifty, a few gray with years. Anonymity was essential to the Elgen, and board members used numbers instead of names, the numbers corresponding to their term of service and place at the table. The chairman, Giacomo Schema, was Number One and the only member of the board who used his name.

Every eye was on Hatch as he entered the room. Although he had, at one time, served as CEO of Elgen Inc., the company had been reorganized after the original MEI machine was discovered to be dangerous. Hatch had been removed from the board, but had served ever since as the executive director, overseeing the daily affairs of the company. His relationship with the board had been volatile, and more than once there had been motions to remove him as director. But the company’s growing profitability and status had, at least to that moment, ensured his longevity.

“Chairman Schema, board members,” Hatch said, slightly nodding.

“Welcome, Dr. Hatch,” the chairman said. “I trust your flight wasn’t overly taxing.” Chairman Schema was a broad, barrel-chested Italian who dressed impeccably in Armani suits with silk ascots.

“No, thank you. I’m used to the flight.”

“Take a seat, please,” Schema said, motioning to the chair at the opposite end of the table.

“Thank you.” Hatch pulled the chair out and sat down.

“Tell us about the disaster in Pasadena,” Schema said, no longer concealing his anger.

“As I wrote in my report, one of the electric children—”

“Michael Vey,” Six, one of the board members to his left, said.

Hatch looked at her. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Vey managed to
overpower one of our youths, the one you know as Zeus, and recruited him to help him free the others.”

“How did he accomplish this? Was Vey left unguarded?”

“On the contrary. He was actually strapped down and being watched by three guards and Zeus. We believe that Vey may have telepathic powers we were unaware of—powers like Tara’s or her sister, Taylor. Shall I continue?”

Chairman Schema waved his hand in an angry flourish. “By all means.”

“The surveillance cameras in the room were blown out, so we’ve had to deduce much of what transpired. From what we’ve gathered, after Vey overpowered Zeus, he freed two of his accomplices who were locked down and the four of them attacked the guards in the hallway outside. They then released three more of the children who had been kept in seclusion—Ian, Abigail, and McKenna. Together, the seven of them attacked the academy and freed the GPs. The GPs managed to arm themselves, and for the protection of the rest of the children, we were forced to flee.”

“What is the status of the freed GPs now?”

“The GPs are all accounted for except three. Two of them are with Vey, the other one, we believe, committed suicide in an aqueduct. His RFID tags are no longer registering. We are awaiting a report on the body.”

“What about the children?” Three asked.

“We lost seven. . . .”

There was an audible groan from both sides of the table.

Hatch looked around, then said in a softer voice, “We lost seven. Vey; Zeus; Tara’s twin, Taylor; and the three from Cell Block H—Ian, Abigail, and McKenna.”

“Please, remind us of their gifts,” Four said.

“Ian sees through electrolocation. . . .”

“Which means?” Chairman Schema asked.

“He can see through solid objects that humans cannot. McKenna can generate heat and light. Abigail can eliminate pain by stimulating nerve endings.”

“I could use her for my headache right now,” Eight said wryly.

Hatch ignored the comment. “Then, as I mentioned, Zeus, who can throw electricity.”

“That’s only six,” Chairman Schema said.

“We also lost Grace.”

“They captured her?”

Hatch interlaced his fingers in front of him. “Yes, we think so.”

“What is it that Grace does?”

“She can hack into data systems and store information like a hard drive.”

Six asked, “Did she hack into our system? Does she have confidential information that could compromise our security?”

“She was never given access to our mainframe.”

“Were the children still in the building when you fled?” Three asked.

“Yes. They were.”

“Then may we presume that she had access to the mainframe after you left?”

“The mainframe was set on self-destruct, so all the information was destroyed. But there was a short window of opportunity, so it is possible she downloaded
some
information, but even that is highly unlikely. Especially if she was taken against her will.”

“What makes you think she was taken against her will?” Six asked.

“As we gathered up the other youths, we were not able to locate her. We believe she was on one of the other floors when the attack occurred.”

Eight shook his head in disgust. “What a nightmare.”

Chairman Schema leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together. “You had reported to me . . . actually, you had
promised
me, that the children would be back in your custody two days ago. But they are not.”

“No. Vey and his associates have eluded two of our traps.”

“Two?”

“They were tipped off to the first one. They attacked and tied up our watch, then fled the scene. We tracked them down to a home
where they were hiding, and they were all captured. But they managed to overpower the guards and escape.”

“This seems to be part of a pattern, Dr. Hatch,” Chairman Schema said angrily. “I am beginning to doubt your ability to capture Vey and his friends.”

“These are very powerful youths. The combination of their unique powers makes apprehending them, as Eight so aptly put it, a nightmare. Especially since our objective is to bring them in alive.”

“What provoked Vey’s attack in the first place?” Three asked.

“Vey was looking for his mother. We captured and held him for more than three weeks before he attempted his escape.”

Three leaned forward. “And did he find his mother?”

“No. She wasn’t being held in Pasadena. She’s currently detained in our compound in Peru.”

“So now we are holding hostages too?” Eight said.

Hatch replied, “She’s the bait we need to recapture her son.”

Chairman Schema slammed his hand on the table. “Dr. Hatch, your missteps continue to compromise this organization. First you were abducting children, now you are abducting their parents. These are crimes for which the board may be held accountable.”

“Which is why we reside in international waters,” Hatch said. “Mr. Chairman, may I remind the board that we were all complicit in much greater crimes with the death of forty-two infants. It was our cover-up of that incident that revealed the phenomenon of the electric children in the first place.”

“Strike that from the record,” Chairman Schema said to the board member taking notes. “Yes, we are aware of our complicity in that matter. And every time you pursue additional lawlessness, you further endanger this board. Are you mindful of this?”

“I do not take any of our actions lightly, Mr. Chairman. What has been done is part of our ongoing Neo-Species Genesis program, a program that has been unanimously approved by the board, not once but repeatedly, over the past decade.”

“Which is precisely what we wish to discuss this morning,” Chairman Schema said. “Dr. Hatch, in the last decade you have spent two hundred
and forty-six million dollars in the Neo-Species program. Other than the ‘accidental’ creation of the original seventeen children, have you successfully replicated an electric human?”

“No, sir. But we believe we’re close.”

“What evidence would you have to support what seems to me a rather optimistic assessment?”

“As you’re well aware, we’ve now successfully altered the electric composition of other mammals, and we are about to begin testing on primates. Also, there have been many other worthwhile discoveries and advancements that have come as a result of the program. The Starxource initiative wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the Neo-Species program—surely that alone warrants its continuation.”

“Dr. Hatch is right,” Four said. “The Starxource program is of inestimable value.”

“Thank you,” Hatch said. “And we don’t know what other beneficial advancements the program will generate in the future.”