Unchanged (33 page)

A beeping sound grabs my attention. The command screen. It's changing.

A communication is being sent. The pod is requesting access to enter the compound's force field.

“No!” I dive toward the controls, hitting every button I can. Screaming into the unresponsive interface.

“Director Raze! Dr. A! Can you hear me! It's Sera! Don't grant access. It's a trap! Destroy the pod! Can anyone hear me? DESTROY THE POD!”

Tears of frustration—of helplessness—are streaming down my face.

The screen flashes again. For a moment, I feel a dangerous hope rising in my chest.

Did someone hear me?

Are they responding?

System override by Diotech Corporation

The standard protocol has been initiated. Diotech is taking control of the pod.

Activating internal detection devices

A bright crimson light flares across my vision and I watch my infrared silhouette appear on the screen in deep reds and glowing oranges. My still capture appears next to it. An openmouthed, panicked expression distorts my features.

Scanning for prohibited materials

YES!

I shudder a sigh of relief.

They're inspecting the pod. They're checking for hazardous items. Weapons. Biogerms. Mysterious canisters full of deadly gas.

They have to find it. And once they do, the pod won't be granted entrance. Raze will never allow it to land.

I feel my spirits lifting.

It's not over. This morning won't end in catastrophe.

But then I see what flashes on the screen next and my hope shatters into tiny irreparable pieces.

Access granted

Initiate landing procedure

 

54

CHAMBER

How could the scans not find it? Where could they possibly have hidden this gas that Diotech wouldn't be able to detect it?

Did Klo rig the scanning devices before we boarded the hovercopter?

That doesn't seem likely. Paddok was adamant about playing by the rules. No hacks. They wanted Diotech to trust my pod. To let me land without hesitation.

My chest tightens as the ground below me grows nearer. The sight of the familiar buildings and manicured pathways should bring me comfort. All I've wanted for weeks was to come home.

I press my forehead to the glass and search for signs of life. So far, I've yet to see a single person walk by.

Maybe they
did
get my message after all. Maybe they've evacuated the compound. Transported everyone to safety.

Then a flicker of movement catches my eye and I see the first agent appear, dressed in his usual black uniform, brandishing a mutation laser in one hand.

It won't do him much good once he's breathing in toxins.

Several more agents emerge from the Intelligence Command Center. I want to shout for them to go back inside. Get as far away from this pod as possible. But they just keep coming. Dozens of agents armed with Modifiers and mutation lasers and other useless weapons.

A higher-ranking agent shouts orders to the others and they align in a formation around the pod.

I land softly in the center of the ICC courtyard. Barely even a jostle. Desperately, I paw at the hatch above me, trying to get out. With an exhale and a groan, the door unseals and the pod releases me.

I scramble up the ladder and burst into the daylight, waving my arms frantically over my head. “Get away!” I shout at them. “Run! Now!”

All the guards look to their commander, who I now recognize as Thatch, one of Raze's senior agents. He gives me a puzzled look.

“It's a trap!” I scream. “There's—”

I double over as something explodes inside of me, stealing my breath. My stomach contracts like I'm going to vomit. I open my mouth and heave, but nothing comes out except dry air that stings my throat.

It takes me a moment too long to realize that something is amiss. That it's not air escaping my lips, but a thick, orange mist. It slithers sinuously into the air. By the time I think to close my mouth, it's too late. The gas is already spreading, dispersing.

It moves faster than I can comprehend.

Like a soldier on a mission.

The first agent starts to convulse. His body shaking violently. An earthquake going off inside his brain. His eyes roll back into his head as saliva drips from his mouth, running down his chin. I immediately notice its distinctive orange tint.

It's in me.

I'm the chamber. I'm the dispenser.

I think back to the nutrition capsule Sevan gave me before I boarded the hover.

It wasn't filled with nutrition.

They must have triggered it somehow. Did Klo do it remotely? Or was it the open air of the compound itself?

The writhing guard starts to fall. His closest neighbor runs to catch him. He fights to hold his comrade still but it's not long before he succumbs, too, thrust back by his own fit of vicious seizures. A pool of liquid blooms in the front of his pants.

The first agent collapses. Hitting the ground hard. The uncontrollable thrashing continues. More orange bile is expelled from his mouth and now his nose as well. Hideous welts start to boil up on his skin, covering his face.

Not even a minute passes. It all happens in a matter of seconds.

One by one they're seized by this merciless poison that I've brought upon them. They don't even have time to cry out. The gas traps the noise inside them.

Their convulsions are their screams.

Still perched on the top rung of the ladder, I take in the scene around me in horror. I am completely powerless. Completely useless.

Is this what happened to the children? Is this how Paddok's son died?

Tears rain down my cheeks as I wait for the gas to take me, too.

Please take me.

I suck in deep lungfuls of air, hoping to speed the process along. I brace myself against the open hatch, waiting for the seizures to commence.

Nothing happens.

No matter how much toxic air I breathe, I seem to be immune to the gas. Immune to this horrible fate.

I look past the circle of fallen agents, toward the rest of the compound. A pair of lab assistants in white coats are walking from the Administration Sector to the Medical Sector. They stop when they see the spectacle.

“No!” I try to call out to them, but no sound emerges. Only sobs.

A moment later, they are writhing on the ground as well.

Innocent people. Just doing their jobs.

How long will it take to spread to the rest of the compound? How long will it take to reach the Owner's Estate? Is that where Kaelen is right now? I pray he's as far away from here as possible.

I pray he's on the moon.

I hastily wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and scramble out of the pod. I drop to the ground and start to run in the direction of the Residential Sector. Maybe I can warn them. Maybe I can get them out before it's too late.

But the first people I pass are infected by the gas instantly. The poison overtakes them. Controls them. Until they can't stand up.

I'm only spreading it faster by moving around.

I turn and dash back to the pod, just in time to see the hovercopter coming in for a smooth, uninhibited landing. I skid to a stop.

The door unseals. Paddok disembarks first.

She glances casually around her, surveying the carnage like a prospector surveying land. Her satisfied expression makes me sick. Heat spreads through my body. My hands tighten into balls.

“Nice work,” she commends. I don't know if she's talking to me or Klo or even to herself, but it doesn't matter.

I charge toward her and send my clenched fist sailing into her smug face.

 

55

BELOW

Klo and Lyzender pin my flailing arms to my sides and yank me back, while Jase jumps out of the hover and wields his shotgun at me. I could care less about his stupid weapon. Let him shoot me.

Thankfully, I was able to get one decent punch in before they restrained me, and I can already see the effects of it on Paddok's left eye. The skin is pink and broken just below her eyebrow, blood trickling down. She dabs it gingerly with her fingertip. I'm expecting her to lash out at me in return, but she doesn't. I almost wish she would. I could use a fight right now.

“You killed them!” I scream at her, wrestling against my captors. Given my limited capabilities, I only manage to elbow Klo in the ribs.

He groans. “Lyzender, control your woman.”

“Just be grateful she doesn't have her full strength,” Lyzender says with a chuckle. “Or we'd all be dead.”

I'm still shouting, “You killed innocent people! You are a murderer!”

“They're not dead,” Paddok mumbles, wiping her bloody fingertip on her shirt.

I stop thrashing and stare incredulously at her. “What?”

“I said, they're not dead. Flux, Sera. I'm not Jans Alixter. It's a disabling nerve gas but it's been modified so the effects are temporary. You can thank Leylia Wong for that. It'll wear off in a few hours.”

“Temporary?” I confirm.

“If it was deadly it would have been green. The green stuff is what killed my son.”

I shake off Lyzender and Klo.

“Although I
should
have killed them,” Paddok grumbles. “God knows they wouldn't have shown us the same mercy.”

“Why doesn't it affect us?” I ask.

“We've been injected with a blocker,” Klo explains.

“Enough chitchat. Get the device,” Paddok orders, holding a palm to her swelling eye. Jase and Nem stand guard with their weapons as Lyzender carefully removes the metal box.

“Klo.” Paddok points at him. “Wait here with the hover. Keep refreshing the scramble loops if necessary. The rest of you are with me in the bunker.” She stops to shoot me a vicious glare. “And you. Try to keep your fist away from my face, okay?”

I nod. A small part of me feels like I should offer her an apology. But then I remember what's inside the box cradled in Lyzender's hands and all inklings of remorse die.

Klo climbs back into the hover, and Lyzender starts walking toward the Medical Sector. The rest of the group follows him. I don't want to be anywhere near Paddok so I keep pace with Lyzender in the front. We pass several more unconscious bodies—all with the same orange-tinted bile oozing from their lips and hideous boils covering their skin. The gas spread quickly, but I notice it's no longer dispersing from my mouth. I hope this means it will eventually stop affecting people. That the worst is over.

But I know the worst is yet to come.

I glance down at the metal box in Lyzender's hands. It's only about ten inches wide and four inches high. I still can't believe it's enough to destroy an entire compound.

We walk under the archways of the Medical Sector and up to the main entrance of Building 2. Lyzender pauses to hand the device to Jase and pulls a small container out of his bag. When he pops open the lid, I see that it's lined with several nanostrips in the shape of fingerprints. He selects one, slips it on his finger, and runs it across the door panel.

Access is granted.

We proceed down a long corridor past several smaller labs until we reach a flat gray wall. But I quickly realize it's not, in fact, a wall when Lyzender locates the square panel and swipes his fingertip across it.

A VersaScreen.

Designed to look like a wall.

“Director Raze's print,” he says proudly, peeling off the nanostrip and returning it to the case. “Courtesy of Klo.”

The screen splits open and the fifteen of us cram into an awaiting lift. Lyzender removes a flat, rectangular device from the same case and holds it in front of his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is distorted, making it lower and more gravelly.

“Bunker floor.”

He sounds
exactly
like Director Raze.

The lift descends. It feels like light-years before we reach the bottom.

We're released into another long corridor. This one is bare and dimly lit. There are no windows and no doors. The only exit is the way we came in.

“I don't understand,” I whisper to Lyzender as we gradually make our way to the end of the hallway. “Why don't you just transesse into the bunker with the device?”

He laughs. “Do you remember what happens when you transesse? What it feels like?”

I think back to the swirling nausea that overtook me every time I jumped across space and time. “It feels like your insides have been ripped apart and put back together.”

“Well, imagine doing that with a device that could destroy a small village.”

“Oh.”

He nods toward the end of the hallway, at the massive silver wall that awaits. “Synthosteel,” Lyzender whispers to me.

I know what it is. It's manufactured here. The most impenetrable substance ever created. Known to withstand nuclear blasts.

“When the device detonates within these walls,” he explains, “no one will even hear it. But anything inside doesn't stand a chance.”

The group stops in front of the wall. Lyzender reaches out and strokes the steel, as though he's admiring its strength.

“The server bunker,” he says quietly to himself. Then there's a long, heavy silence as Lyzender simply stares at the dense steel, his palm resting against its unyielding surface.

If I didn't know any better I would think he was praying.

“I had nothing there. Except a mother who cared more about her latest research project than her own family. And a father who left because of it.”

Those were Lyzender's words to me that early morning we sat outside the Pattinsons' farm house in the year 1609 and watched the last rays of sunlight burst into the sky. His hatred for Diotech runs so deep, it's become a part of him. Like an extra limb or appendage. He's carried it around with him for so many years, he's permanently hunched under the weight of its hostility.