Wild-born (33 page)

I thought that perhaps many psionics had tried to escape within a short time of their capture, but those would have been desperate, frantic attempts without any real planning. The military guards would have been expecting it, and the psionics would have tried it alone. That’s why they failed. I did my best to remain patient. I had already been here three months. A few more days wouldn’t hurt. I needed to get Ralph all the information I possibly could, so I continued my cautious questioning.

I learned that the guards were armed not only with automatic rifles but also with knockout gas grenades. Many years ago, they had successfully used the gas grenades on Nightmare when he got loose in Level 10, but I doubted they would find gas effective against a windmaster like Ralph. Bullets were a greater concern, and I learned more about the automatic guns mounted in the elevator room and how they would shoot anything that moved if the facility was on security alert.

I discovered that the nuclear auto-destruct system could be operated not only from the Level 2 Central Control Room, but also directly from the bomb’s location on Level 11. It was set for a fifteen-minute silent countdown. Once activated, only the top military people and a handful of trusted doctors could shut it off.

I learned that the various security systems were not controlled by a single central computer. Instead, the Level 10 airlocks and security doors, the elevator, the cameras and microphones, the auto-destruct and the control bands were each operated by completely separate computers in the Central Control Room, so as to avoid damage to the other systems if one was disabled.

I already knew from Dr. Kellogg that our control bands could be operated from either the Central Control Room or the little white remote controls that the doctors carried, but I further discovered that the remote controls sent out radio signals independent from the Central Control Room system. This unfortunately meant that even if the Control Room computer was shut down, the doctors could still directly operate our control bands. On the positive side, however, the limited range of the radio transmitters in the remote controls meant that they didn’t work through the walls.

All this and more, I learned from carefully prepared conversations with Dr. Kellogg and Dr. Otis during our breaks between experiments and after meetings, as well as from provoking Dr. Denman.

Occasionally, I might get a dreamweave back in the early morning after sending a message the night before, but usually it took two days for one complete communication cycle. Also, I often couldn’t get the answers to Ralph’s questions in only two days, which meant that many of the dreams we sent to the surface were just pleas for more time. Weeks passed.

I knew that the more information we sent out, the better prepared the Guardians would be, but I was also eager to get out of here, and afraid that, sooner or later, someone would discover what we were doing. My active questioning wouldn’t go unnoticed forever.

However, it turned out that I didn’t have to do all of the snooping around by myself. Mr. Koontz’s fifteen years of experience living in the research center was invaluable to my espionage effort. He had been down below Level 10 when he visited Nightmare once, and he had been above Level 10 several times as well, though hardly ever higher than Level 8 and never to the Central Control Room on Level 2. He had memorized much of the facility’s floor plans, so all I had to do was relay the Guardians’ questions through Alia and he would pass the necessary information back to the surface.

Once, I even tried having Alia ask Mr. Koontz to properly introduce himself to Cindy, so that Cindy could then describe him to Derrick and establish a direct communication line between the two dreamweavers. In my next dream, however, an annoyed Derrick, taking the shape of a gingerbread man wearing a pink tuxedo, told me that dreamweavers simply couldn’t control each other’s dreams.

Thus required to stay in the loop, I ended up learning a lot about the floors above me from what Derrick would say when he was passing me further questions about Mr. Koontz’s information.

The entire facility was built around the central elevator in the shape of a giant concave cylinder, like a can that had been crushed around the middle. In terms of floor space, Level 10 was the most extensive, though Levels 9 and 8 were pretty large too. Above that, each floor was fairly small until Levels 2 and 1, which were wider.

The middle floors didn’t matter too much because the central elevator went from Level 10 all the way up to Level 2. However, the elevator doors were well protected on all levels and, because Level 2 was the primary security gate to the rest of the facility, there was no easy access to Level 1 and the surface above it. If the Guardians could get in, fight their way through Level 1 and take control of Level 2, they would have free access to the whole complex. I took hope in the fact that this facility had been designed mainly to prevent breakouts, not break-ins.

And because the facility had been built so long ago and with such sturdy shielding, very little additional security could be installed in Level 10 since its original construction. Derrick had been worried that there might be some sort of high-tech mechanism to flood the corridors with poison gas or perhaps some kind of sticky foam, but as far as we could tell, no such security traps existed here. Instead, it was entirely up to the security gates, the control bands, the auto-destruct and the military guards to keep escape attempts from succeeding.

The military guards, when not on their shift, rested in Level 9 or slept in their barracks on Level 8. Once Ralph’s team took the Central Control Room, both of these floors could be locked out from elevator access, which meant we would only have to deal with the one shift of guards on Level 10. That was still quite a few, but two-thirds less than we had originally feared.

Some of the doctors also lived up on Level 8, but most, including the main research team, had their quarters on Level 10. I worried about that a lot because I didn’t want Dr. Kellogg to be hurt during the attack, but there didn’t seem to be any way to warn him without giving ourselves away.

I also had two other major concerns at the time.

The first was that, according to Cindy, I talked in my sleep. I didn’t dare ask the Central Control Room what I might have been muttering during the nights I slept waiting for Derrick’s messages. I started meditating regularly before bedtimes, hoping it might keep me from blabbing in the dark, but there was little else I could do. It was just another risk in a long list of risks, but one I couldn’t help now that we were committed to this plan.

The other worry I had was that Alia was acting almost normal these days. The prospect of escape and of being reunited with Cindy had brought about a marked change in Alia’s attitude. She still followed me everywhere, but no longer cowered when around other people, even the guards, and she flinched only under the cold gaze of Dr. Denman. When I thought about it, Alia was doing much better around people than back when we were living at Cindy’s house just last year, and it had been more than a week since she last needed to take a silent break from reality.

It should have been cause for celebration, but Alia’s recovery came with a hidden danger: I felt it was only a matter of time before Dr. Kellogg suggested we stop sharing the bed, which would destroy the communication line we had so painstakingly established. Alia certainly seemed more than ready to sleep alone, so I had long since stopped even pretending to want my own room. I restlessly awaited each new dream exchange, hoping it wouldn’t be our last.

“Adrian, may I have a word?” I heard Dr. Kellogg’s voice say over the speaker one evening as I sat reading at my desk. Alia, who in recent weeks had resumed her habit of taking annoyingly long baths, was busy splashing around in the tub.

“Come on in, Doctor,” I said.

I was still waiting to take my bath so I wasn’t wearing my control bands, but I figured Dr. Kellogg probably knew that and didn’t care. I closed my book as Dr. Kellogg entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, noticing the concerned expression on his face and inwardly suspecting that I already knew. Dr. Kellogg had carefully timed his visit to coincide with Alia’s bath so that he and I could talk in private.

Dr. Kellogg said gravely, “Dr. Denman has informed me of your whispered conversations to Alia over the past few weeks.”

“Dr. Denman likes causing trouble for me. You know that,” I said in an indignant tone, but I knew Dr. Kellogg wouldn’t have come if it was just an empty accusation from someone who clearly hated, and was hated by, everyone. I shifted my weight uneasily on the stool.

“I had some trouble believing it myself,” said Dr. Kellogg, “but I must admit that it does look like your mouth is moving. What are you whispering to her?”

Thinking quickly, I replied, “Alia wants me to tell her bedtime stories, but if I read them from a book, she keeps looking at the pictures and never goes to sleep. So I tell her to close her eyes and then I whisper them to her.”

“I see,” said Dr. Kellogg. Then, stroking his beard, he asked quietly, “Do you know, Adrian, the easiest way to tell if someone is lying?”

“Without psionics?” I deadpanned.

“You look at a person’s eyes,” said Dr. Kellogg. “People usually don’t look directly at you if they are lying. If they are making up a story, they often move their eyes upwards. Where do you think your eyes went when I asked what you were whispering to Alia?”

“I have no idea,” I answered, trying to keep myself from fidgeting.

Suddenly Dr. Kellogg laughed merrily. “Why, you were looking directly into my eyes, of course!”

He stood up to leave. I was pretty sure I hadn’t been looking at his eyes. Was he just trying to get out of the room so that he could seal us in and get help? As much as I liked Dr. Kellogg, he was, after all, working for the research center. For a split second, I even considered blasting him and taking him hostage, but I knew that would only bring the whole place around me.

Dr. Kellogg turned to me as the airlock’s inner door slid open. “I will pass my expert analysis of your sincerity on to Dr. Otis,” he said smilingly. “However, Adrian, I advise you not to do anything here that may bring further suspicion upon you, or Dr. Denman may manage to convince Central Control to revoke your control band privileges.”

With that, he turned around and left the room.

“Was that Dr. Kellogg?”
asked Alia as she emerged from the bathroom a second later.

Feeling myself break out in a cold sweat, I didn’t bother answering her as I hurried into the bathroom.

Standing under the steaming hot shower, I looked at the P-47 tattoo on my arm and shuddered as I realized again how dangerous my situation really was at the research facility. Dr. Denman was right: Alia and I really were just lab animals here, and Dr. Kellogg couldn’t protect us.

C
hapter 16: Last-Minute Surprises

That night, Derrick, taking the form of a talking crescent moon in a purple sky, haughtily demanded more precise information about the location of the remote guns mounted around the central elevator doors on Level 10. Shaken by Dr. Kellogg’s visit, however, I didn’t dare pass his question on to Mr. Koontz the following evening. I instead whispered a fairytale to Alia, deliberately keeping my voice just barely loud enough to be caught on the microphone.

I hoped that my silence would tell the Guardians that I was no longer able to provide information, and that they’d have to go with what they already had, which was, after all, quite a lot by now. However, the very next day, I learned something that would test my resolve for caution.

It was mid-June, and Alia’s day for her regular physical examination. Alia no longer needed me to hold the stethoscope to her chest or even draw her blood. She was quite used to the routine pokes and prods by now, and the doctors were hardly strangers to her anymore. Besides, my skill with a needle, though much improved over the months, was still inferior to an experienced doctor’s. I didn’t always get Alia’s vein on the first try, or even the second, so Alia understandably preferred the hand of a professional.

I sat outside the examining room with Dr. Kellogg, who was chatting with one of the military guards. Even though I was no longer planning to contact Derrick, out of sheer habit I was listening in on their conversation while pretending to read a book. This was something that I had lots of practice at these last few weeks, though it produced very little useful information.

That day, however, I struck pure gold.

“So, Commander Wilkins is finally retiring,” said Dr. Kellogg, sighing. “Are you going to be at the party?”

“Actually, I’m on duty then,” replied the guard. “It’s too bad really. I liked the commander a lot. Have you met his replacement?”

If I were a dog, my ears would have perked up. When was this party? It would be the perfect opportunity for an attack on the facility!

“I haven’t seen Commander Cross yet,” answered Dr. Kellogg. “I heard he was inspecting the upper floors since last month.”

“Oh, he was down in Level 10 just yesterday,” said the guard. “He came in with Commander Wilkins and greeted Dr. Otis and a few others. You must have just missed him.”

“He came down unannounced?” Dr. Kellogg asked in disbelief.

“Apparently the new commander likes surprises. How about you, Doctor? Are you going to be at Commander Wilkins’s send off?”

“I’ll try, but just in case I can’t make Wednesday evening, I’ll stop by his office sometime this weekend.”

Thank you, Dr. Kellogg!
Today was Thursday, so there was no mistaking it. I would have to get this to Ralph before next Wednesday, and the earlier the better, just in case the Guardians decided to attack sooner.

But how could I contact them? I’d risk using Alia if I had to, but was there any other way? In the evening, I took Alia to see Mr. Koontz in the lounge. Alia hadn’t sent him any messages the night before, so no doubt he would have assumed something was wrong. It was a long shot, but I thought perhaps Mr. Koontz might find a way for us to talk privately.