Rise of the Elgen (18 page)

“Dr. Hatch, Captain Welch is on the line.”

“Put him through.” Hatch paused in the hallway. “Did you capture Vey?”

“No. We lost him.”

“How do you lose a tracking device?”

“He must have discovered the RFID tracers in the GPs and disabled them.”

Hatch’s anger reached a new high. “Find them now!”

“Yes, sir. We’ll find them, sir.”

Hatch threw his phone across the hall. “Vey!”

The guard retrieved his phone and held open the elevator door. “Your phone, sir.”

Hatch took it from him. “Fifth floor.”

Q
uentin, Tara, Kylee, and Bryan were sitting in the Elgen dining room waiting for Hatch to arrive. Torstyn was on the opposite side of the room, looking through a stack of
Soldier of Fortune
magazines.

“What’s Torstyn’s power?” Bryan whispered.

The kids rarely talked about one another’s powers, and Torstyn had been separated from them for so long that some of them had forgotten what he could do.

“He’s like a human microwave oven,” Tara said.

“That could come in handy,” Bryan said.

“Yeah,” Quentin said dryly. “Around lunchtime.”

Torstyn suddenly looked up from the magazine he was browsing, and Bryan quickly turned away. Torstyn stood up and walked over to the group. “Hey, Tara,” he said. “Do that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“You know, what you did on the helicopter with your powers.”

Quentin looked at Tara, and she blushed. “I don’t know. . . .”

“Oh, come on. You said you needed to practice.”

Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever it is, she doesn’t want to do it. So leave her alone.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, pretty boy. Mind your own business.”

“I’m the student body president of the academy, so Tara is my business.”

Torstyn grinned. “That is pathetic. Never before has so little power gone to somebody’s head. And in case you didn’t get the memo, school’s out, loser.”

Quentin turned red in the face. “Don’t push your luck, Tor-Stain.”

Torstyn pushed his face into Quentin’s. “Do you think I’m afraid of you? While you’ve spent the last year and a half lounging around California in designer jeans and polo shirts, drinking girlie drinks with little umbrellas in them, you know what I’ve been doing for fun? I hunt anacondas alone in the jungles. No gun. No machete. Just me.” He rolled up his sleeve to show a ragged scar across his biceps leading to two large puncture wounds.

All the kids stared, and Torstyn was pleased by their response. “Last January, during the rainy season, I was wading through a patch of jungle when a thirty-foot anaconda shot out of the water and grabbed me by the arm. It tried to drag me into the river.”

“No way, dude,” Bryan said.

Torstyn smiled. “As it was wrapping its coils around me, I looked it in the eyes and cooked it. Its brain exploded out its ears.”

“Whoa!” Bryan said. “Awesome!”

“I had some of the servants drag the snake back to the compound, and I had boots made out of its skin. The thing was a monster. I could have made a dozen pairs.” Torstyn looked at Quentin and sneered. “I’m guessing the scariest thing you’ve faced in the last year was too much starch in your shorts, pretty boy.”

Quentin didn’t back down. “You want to see how much you scare me, Tarzan?” Quentin said. The air around him began to crackle with electricity.

“Don’t start what you don’t want me to finish, tough guy,” Torstyn said.

“C’mon, guys,” Tara said. “This isn’t cool. Someone could get hurt.”

“Shut up,” Bryan said. “I want to see them fight. Battle of the Titans.”

“There better not be a fight,” Hatch said sternly, walking into the room. “Stand down. Both of you.” He looked at Torstyn. “You weren’t thinking of using your powers on another family member?”

Torstyn fidgeted. “Uh, no, sir.”

“And you, Quentin?”

“No, sir. I was protecting Tara’s honor, sir.”

“That sounds noble,” Hatch said facetiously. “You were going to protect her ‘honor’ with your powers?”

He swallowed. “It hadn’t come to that, sir.”

“You both should be glad for that. Remember my rules, gentlemen. Then remember the penalty for breaking my rules.”

“Yes, sir,” they both said.

“Now listen up. We are flying out first thing in the morning. So pack up tonight. We’ll be gone awhile and where we’re going there are no shopping malls and no concierge desk. You’re going to be roughing it. So bring extra necessities. Especially you young ladies.”

“How long will we be gone?” Kylee asked.

“More than a month. Possibly as long as a year.”

“A year?” Tara said.

Quentin raised his hand. Torstyn rolled his eyes.

“May I ask where we’re going, sir?” Quentin asked.

“No, you may not. I will fill everyone in on the details during the flight. Now go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow, and I need you all to be sharp. Everyone’s excused except for Torstyn and Quentin. You two stay.”

“Yes, sir,” Quentin said.

Torstyn breathed out heavily. “All right.”

When everyone had left Hatch looked at the two young men. Quentin’s head was slightly bowed; Torstyn was slumped down in his chair.

“Sit up,” Hatch said to Torstyn.

“Yes, sir,” he said, straightening himself up. “Sorry, sir.”

“You thought you were going to fight? What were you thinking? This isn’t a schoolyard playground. With your powers, any fight is to the death. Or have you grown stupid in the last two days? Who gave you permission to kill each other?”

They sat quietly, avoiding Hatch’s fierce gaze.

“I asked you a question!” Hatch shouted. “Who told you that you could risk your life without my permission?”

“No one, sir,” Quentin said.

Torstyn shook his head. “No one, sir.”

Hatch leaned forward. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I don’t care what you think of each other. But if either of you lets your ego get in the way of what’s about to happen, you’ll spend the rest of your life guarding a Starxource plant in Outer Mongolia. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“There will be order and strict obedience. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” they repeated.

“Good. Quentin has been in charge of the group for the last five years in Pasadena and has done an adequate job of keeping the Elgen youths in line. I see no reason to change that. Quentin will remain my number one.”

Quentin crossed his arms triumphantly over his chest, giving Torstyn a satisfied look. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t get smug, Quentin. You’re number one over the rest of the youths, but not Torstyn. Torstyn answers only to me.”

“Thank you, sir,” Torstyn said, glaring at Quentin.

“Where we’re headed is no Beverly Hills vacation, and none of you, except Torstyn, are ready for what you’re going to encounter. Torstyn knows what it takes to survive in a hostile environment, don’t you, Torstyn?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now hear me and hear me well. Whatever you do, you will not get romantically involved with any members of the family. We do
not need any complications right now—a house divided against itself cannot stand. Do you both understand?”

“Yes, sir,” they said again.

“What we are facing will test everyone. We’ve lost half the youths already, and now Tanner is on the verge of cracking. In fact, he already has. I need both of you one hundred percent. Now shake hands.”

Quentin reached out his hand. “My apologies.”

Torstyn gripped his hand. “Okay,” he said. “Me too.”

“Good,” Hatch said. “I’m not surprised that you’re at odds. You’re both alpha males and you’re both warriors—which is exactly what I need right now. Warriors.” He leaned forward. “Gentlemen, the pieces are in place and we’re about to make the first move. The war has begun. But first we must cleanse the inner vessel.”

T
he sun was just starting to rise in Rome as Dr. Hatch and the electric children drove in a small convoy of Mercedes-Benz vans to the Leonardo da Vinci–Fiumicino airport to board the Elgen’s private jet. Only Tanner traveled alone, strapped to a gurney and heavily sedated. He was attended by his doctor and one guard.

Hatch was in the lead car with three guards and the driver. He was wearing his dark, custom glasses and wrote in a notebook the entire ride, speaking only when they reached their destination.

He didn’t talk to the youths at all, except to hurry them onto the plane. They each took their own row of seats except for Tara and Kylee, who sat next to each other. Tanner and Dr. Jung were behind the others, near the back of the aircraft. Tanner’s gurney was fastened to the wall next to Dr. Jung’s seat and a screen was drawn around them. After the jet’s cabin door was closed, Hatch
disappeared into his private quarters, in the back of the plane.

The flight attendant distributed a breakfast parfait to the passengers, then offered a full hot breakfast, which only Torstyn took. Bryan and both of the girls fell asleep as soon as they were airborne.

About two hours after the jet had left the ground, Hatch came out of his quarters and walked to the front of the main cabin. He grabbed a microphone from the wall and spoke. “All right, everyone. Give me your attention.”

He waited as the kids stirred. Quentin woke Tara and Kylee. “Dr. Hatch is speaking.”

“Is everyone listening?” Hatch asked.

“Yes, sir,” Quentin said.

“Show me the Elgen salute.”

Everyone made the sign, touching the three middle fingers of their left hands to their temples, their thumb and little finger touching.

“Listen carefully. What I’m about to tell you is C10.”

“Whoa,” Bryan said. He glanced over at Quentin, who raised his eyebrows.

Hatch labeled messages to the teens in levels of confidentiality—the more important the message, the higher the level. C10 was the highest. Even Quentin had only heard a C10 once before. The consequence of divulging information was proportionate to the level of confidentiality. Revealing a C10 message to outsiders would carry the highest punishment—death by torture.

“We are flying to Peru because I have been ordered by the Elgen board to shut down and dismantle the Neo-Species Genesis program—the very program that brought you to me in the first place, the program that you and I have spent our
lives
on for the last twelve years. I have been instructed to reallocate the scientists to different Starxource operations, quietly exterminate the GPs, and then send you all off to lead your own lives as private, normal citizens of whatever country and school you choose, never to hear from us again.” Hatch leaned back, waiting for the teens to react.

“What?” Quentin said, clearly stunned.

“They can’t do that!” Tara said.

Kylee started crying.

After a moment Bryan said, “Does this mean no more family trips?”

“No more family trips,” Hatch said calmly. “No more
family
. You’re on your own.”

Hatch stoically watched them as the reality settled in, his own emotions concealed behind his glasses. The teens were clearly upset, glancing back and forth at one another in disbelief, hoping that Dr. Hatch was playing some kind of a horrible prank.

Finally Hatch said, “So tell me, what do you have to say to that?”

Quentin was the first to speak. “With all due respect, sir. I think I can speak for all of us and say we don’t like it. We want to stay with you.”

Hatch glanced up and down the rows. “Is that true? Kylee?”

Kylee wiped her eyes. “Yes, sir. I don’t want to be an orphan.”

“Tara?”

“Me too, sir.”

“Bryan?”

“I think it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Torstyn?”

“Sucks.”

Hatch nodded a little. “Then I take it you disapprove, Torstyn?”

“Yes, sir. I disapprove.”

Hatch paused for a moment. “Then the real question is, perhaps, what exactly would you be willing to do to keep the family together?”

“Whatever you tell us to do, sir,” Quentin said. “Right, everyone?” He was answered with a chorus of affirmations.

Hatch studied their expressions for a moment, then nodded approvingly. “Exactly what I thought you would say. Now let me remind you that what I am going to tell you, every word of it, is C10. What is the punishment for disclosing a C10 secret? Tara.”