--
Valeta Kalopolis, Ringmaster
Delta Maura's keycard opened the door with no trouble. The corridor beyond was empty--sleep cycle. Martina braced herself, then crossed the threshold.
Nothing happened. No shock, no pain, no alarms. She let out a small breath. Her shackles lay on the bathroom floor. There was no reason to believe anything would happen to her when she left her prescribed place, but a lifetime of conditioning could not be overcome in a few seconds of freedom.
Potential freedom
, she reminded herself.
Move, girl!
Martina chose a random direction and went. The problem was, she had no idea where to go. She reasoned there had to be ways in and out of the place, though Martina had never seen them. She should probably avoid places she knew, since they'd be dead-ends. The kitchen would be a good place to start--food delivery had to come from somewhere. It might provide her an exit, if only she could find the place.
A sudden urge to go find Keith flooded her. She had a master unit. She could release his shackles and they could run together. A firm shake of the head forced the thought from her mind. Keith was lost to her. She would have to get out herself, then find a way to come back for him. And she would.
If she could get out.
Martina opened a door and found a concrete staircase. Up or down?
Down, she decided. Martina had always gotten the sense that the dumbwaiter in her room came from below, though she had never actually seen it move. In any case, it was something to go on.
She gathered the skirts of her robe in green-gloved hands and headed downward as quickly as she dared. Delta Maura's robe was wide for her and a bit short. Her footsteps echoed off the hard walls. The stairwell was warmer than the corridor, and it smelled like hot metal.
"Did everything go well with your Alpha?"
Martina jumped, but no one was there. The voice had come right into her ear. What had--
Delta Maura's earpiece. Swallowing hard, Martina whispered, "Fine. Sorry. I forgot to check in."
"No problem. Where are you headed?"
"I thought I might get something to eat in the kitchen," Martina said, still whispering. The voice of a whisper wasn't recognizable.
"While you're there, would you grab a snack for me and bring it up? You know what I like."
"Of course." Martina tapped the earpiece, ending the conversation. Her heart was beating so fast it made her eyes pulse in time with it. At least she had gotten a valuable clue--the kitchens were on a lower level than the person who had spoken with her.
One level down, the staircase ended. Martina found a door and opened it with her keycard. Voices raised in conversation greeted her. The large room beyond seemed to be an employee dining hall, with rows of long tables and low-backed chairs. Perhaps two dozen people ate from cafeteria trays. Two of them were dressed in green robes identical to Martina's. Martina's first instinct was to flee, but she forced herself to remain in the doorway. None of the diners took the slightest notice of her.
Martina took a deep breath and started across the room. Food smells washed over her and her stomach growled, though she didn't feel at all like eating. The kitchen should be nearby. Martina found herself keeping to the edges of the room. Stupid. Anyone who saw a Delta walking as if she belonged there wouldn't think twice. Anyone who saw a Delta trying to sneak about would get suspicious. Martina forced herself to stride openly and firmly. Silverware clattered against plates and people continued to talk. How long before the people spying on her room got suspicious about the bathtub? How long before they sent someone else to check? Martina didn't know.
One of the Deltas looked up, noticed Martina, and waved her over. Martina's veins hummed with adrenaline. She gave a little wave of her own, pretending to misunderstand, and headed for a large set of swinging doors on the other side of the dining room. Before she could hesitate and lose her nerve, she pushed through them.
On the other side lay an industrial-sized kitchen, with row of gleaming work counters, metal doors, shelves of utensils. White-clad workers chopped and mixed and stirred bubbling pots. The place smelled of cheap meat and tomato sauce.
"Is there something you need, Delta?" asked a voice at her elbow.
Martina stifled a shriek and put a pleasant look on her face. A balding, red-faced man was looking at her inquisitively. An enormous butcher knife gleamed in his hand.
"I'm just looking for the cargo lift where the food shipments come down," she said, trying not to look at the knife. "I don't come back here very often."
"Back there," the man replied, pointing. Then, with a disinterested air, he turned back to his cutting board. The knife made meaty
thunks
.
Martina breathed an inward sigh at her luck. She hurried to the rear of the kitchen and through another set of swinging doors. Beyond them was a short hallway that ended at another lift, this one big enough to haul freight. It opened to her keycard, so she got in and checked the displays. The kitchen seemed to be in the basement, as she had guessed. There were five floors above her. Which one did she need? Not the first floor--she had just come from there. She thought a moment. Exits were more likely to be on one of the extremes. Fifth floor, then. Martina pressed the button. The lift came to life with a swooping noise that made her jump again.
After a long moment, the doors opened onto another plain corridor faced by several doors. No people in sight. Martina got out and looked for promising signs of an exit. None were in evidence. Martina ground her teeth in frustration. How the hell was she supposed to get out of here? There
had
to be a way.
The doors slid shut and the lift dropped. Martina thought about calling it back again, then decided against. A stairwell should be nearby--there it was--and she could easily try another floor. Maybe the exit was in the middle, on the third floor? But what if--
The lift made a swooping noise behind her, and the display indicated it was climbing back up. It climbed fast, passing the fourth floor and halting at the fifth.
Gretchen fell backward with a grunt and crashed to the ground. The tray went flying. Food splattered ceiling, deck, and bulkheads as Isaac Todd planted another kick squarely in Gretchen's stomach. The breath whooshed out of her and she lay still. Without hesitating further, Todd sprinted off down the empty corridor, leaving his shackles on the floor behind him. After a long moment, Sister Gretchen Beyer stirred and slowly sat up. Her stomach hurt like hell and every breath burned like fire.
"Well, shit," she said.
Martina Weaver peeped through a crack in the stairwell door as the lift opened. A tall man dressed all in black slipped out and crept down the hall. The lower half of his face was covered with a mask, and he wore a close-fitting hood. A tool belt circled his narrow waist. Martina narrowed her eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was someone else who didn't belong here. And he probably knew a way out.
The man chose one of the doors, slipped a keycard through the lock, and went inside. Martina stood for a moment, torn by indecision. If she approached the man, he might be willing to let her follow him out in exchange for her silence. Or he might just kill her. All life, was this an opportunity or a trap?
The lift dropped again. After a few more hurried moments of thought, Martina decided to approach the man and take her chances. She was just emerging from the stairwell when alarms blasted up and down the hallway.
Kendi Weaver closed the research lab door behind him and ghosted over to one of the terminals in semi-darkness. The red arrow vanished from his vision. He slotted Jeung's false key into the terminal and pressed the yellow thumb against the plate. A display winked to life, granting him full access, just as Ben's mock IDs and keycards had granted him access to the Collection. It had almost been anticlimactic. Even the cameras in the hallways couldn't detect him--Ben was using Giselle Mallory's security access to upload false images of empty hallways.
The lab itself was pretty impressive, even in dim light. Stone-topped tables were scattered around an enormous room. Cabinets filled with equipment marched along the walls, and silvery cryo-units hummed to themselves, preserving who-knew-what. It smelled faintly of chemicals and singed cloth. The only light came from a table lamp left burning at one of the workstations.
Kendi was still nervous as a hunted lion. Success depended on so many factors beyond his control. Martina and Utang were depending on him--and they didn't even know he was here. Suddenly Kendi was tired of keeping secrets, tired of making plans, tired of the entire business. The idea of settling down on Bellerophon with Ben and a houseful of children became more attractive by the minute.
Kendi shook his head. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Forcing himself to concentrate, he produced the yellow thumb and Jeung's key from his tool belt and logged onto one of the terminals.
Good Evening, Dr. Jeung.
"I'm on, Ben."
"I can see the display through your implant,"
Ben told him.
"Access these directories."
Following Ben's instructions, Kendi searched around until he found the medical database and the files he needed. He was just finishing up when the alarms blared. Kendi jumped, his heart in his mouth.
"Attention! Attention!" shouted the computer over the noise. "Alpha subject has escaped indoctrination area. Lockdown initiated. Attention! Attention! Alpha subject has escaped indoctrination area. Lockdown initiated."
"Shit!" Kendi all but leaped across the room to make for the door. It was locked. With chilly fingers, Kendi produced his false ID card. The door didn't budge. He tried Jeung's fake thumb and his key. Nothing. The alarms honked and blared, pounding his ears into his skull.
"Attention! Attention!"
"Ben!" Kendi shouted.
"I hear it. I've already--
"
The door burst open. Kendi jumped back as a small crowd boiled into the room. The lights burst into full illumination, and Kendi shielded his eyes. When they adjusted, he found himself surrounded. Edsard Roon stood red-faced next to Isaac Todd, who looked triumphant. A pair of uniformed security guards, one male and one female, were holding a beautiful young woman in a green robe that was a size too large for her. Kendi stared at her face and the strength drained out of his legs.
Martina . . .
A thousand thoughts and memories poured through him. He wanted to run to her, grab her in a hug. But he remained still. It would be a terrible mistake to let Roon know who she was and what she meant to him.
It was only then he noticed that Roon and Todd were holding neuro-pistols.
"Alice!" Roon barked. "Silence those damned alarms!"
The alarms went instantly quiet. Kendi's ears rang in the stillness.
"Imagine my surprise," Roon said. "I was on my way up here, acting on certain information that there would be a break-in at the labs, and I happened to stumble onto an escaped Alpha, trapped in the hallway by the lockdown. My luck."
Kendi said nothing. His eyes darted about the room, seeking an exit. Roon noticed the gesture and smiled condescendingly. "Alice, re-initialize lockdown."
The door behind him locked with an audible
thump
.
"You can't escape, Father," Roon said. "That is your title, isn't it? You're a Father with the Children of Irfan. Except I was lead to believe that there would be more of you here. Mr. Todd?"
"I haven't been logged off,"
Ben murmured in Kendi's ear.
"The hotel terminal is still working. Hang tight."
Todd's face darkened. "There have to be more of them around here somewhere."
"Alice, page Rafille Mallory and tell her to get her ass down here immediately," Roon barked. The refined, friendly demeanor he had shown Kendi in his home had all but vanished. "Then tell Security to initialize a level-by-level search for unauthorized personnel. Security personnel are hereby granted access through lockdown."
"Working."
"Let me go!" Martina snarled, trying to twist away from her captors. The man expressionlessly twisted her arm until she yelped with pain and stopped struggling. Kendi clenched a fist.
"You, girl," Roon said, reminded of her presence, "are going back to the Alpha pool, though I think we'll have to use stronger methods on you. I think you'll be the first one impregnated by the breeding program, for a start. It's harder for pregnant women to escape, and their children make fine hostages to good behavior."
Martina spat at him. The female guard slapped her.
"Maybe we'll give you twins, then," Roon said, and turned back to Kendi. "I know all about your plan, Father. How you intended to trick us into thinking two of my Alphas were sick with Selene's disease so we'd sell them cheap and you could buy them. Ironic, isn't it? You were trying to rescue this woman, and here she was trying to escape on her own."