Lightning (20 page)

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Authors: Bonnie S. Calhoun

Tags: #JUV059000, #JUV053000, #JUV001010

BOOK: Lightning
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Stark white walls and floor prevented Selah from locking on a focal point other than the wires and tubes attached to her arms and legs. She was dressed in white shorts and a T-shirt. She could hear rhythmic clicking from the machine behind her head, but trying to focus on the sound made her head reel.

“An hour!” That was what she wanted to say, but the words came out slurred. She tried to sit up, but the restraint on her chest held her down. She sank back to the table. She checked the tubes and apparatuses connected to her body. Blood leaving in one place—her right arm. Fluids coming into her body in one place—her left ankle. She had to concentrate on restricting flow to those areas.

“Hmm, look at that.” Bethany studied her screen and waved her hand over a halo-button.

A shriek of pain burst from Selah's lips as unbelievable white-hot pain seared her brain. Her body convulsed and her back arched, straining her chest against the strap.
Stop!
Dots of sweat burst on her forehead and ran down her temples in lazy rivulets that ended puddled in her ears.

The pain disappeared. No lingering sensation. Gone. Selah shuddered. Her breath came in great heaving gulps. “Water! Please give me—”

“Now we make a new deal. You keep the blood flowing, and I won't introduce you to any more of my new forms of persuasion.” Bethany didn't wait for an answer. She turned away from Selah, poured a cup of water into a squeeze bottle, then turned back to loom over Selah's face. “Open up.”

Selah set her jaw. She tried to glare, but her eyes were still drifting in and out.

“I hope you don't think I'm going to untie you to let you drink. Open up.”

Selah reluctantly opened her mouth. The spray bounced off her lips and she closed her eyes. Refreshing. The water washed away some of the fog in her head. Her tongue wasn't stuck to her mouth. Maybe she could earn a little sympathy by showing compassion. “Are your people safe?”

“Yes, all of the people have been given your blood as an inoculation. They are safe.” Bethany waited with another douse of the squeeze bottle. Selah shook her head and Bethany straightened.

“I don't believe you. I don't know much about science, but I do know you can't just give someone's blood to another person unless they're the same type. And I doubt this whole Mountain is the same blood type.”

“You're correct,” Bethany said. “But your blood has no antigens, making you a universal donor. We have already started the extraction of the DNA booster.”

“Other than being a universal donor, what's so special about my blood?” Selah felt like a cow at the slaughterhouse. It was odd to see her blood flowing out but not feel physical loss or weakness other than dizziness from the drug.

“I wasn't actually sure until I examined it myself, but there are components to your hybrid blood that I've never seen before. I don't know how they work, but I know one of the results. Longevity. Despite our high technical skills, we still don't have the equipment powerful enough to unlock your secrets. But with your help, I may be able to stay around long enough to accomplish it.”

Selah watched Bethany gently touch the smooth skin of her cheek as she stared at her own reflection in the plascine panel. It was creepy to know this woman wanted to use Selah's blood to live longer.

“What is a DNA booster?”

“Our closed society's DNA has degraded over the past century and a half to the place where the people will all be sterile in another two generations if there isn't a fix. My husband found a fix with your father's blood, but we needed yours—a hybrid—to have the necessary bonding properties.” Her smile trembled. “My husband was right about using a Lander child. He would be proud of my accomplishment.”

Selah decided against the snide remark she wanted to hurl. Her mind cleared and her muscles responded. There would come a point when she'd be able to break the straps, but she needed to be patient and wait for an opportunity when she was alone. “Where is your husband?”

“Unfortunately my husband will be a vegetable for the rest of his life, which I would never seek to prolong.”

“I'm sorry.” Selah could feel the woman's pain for her husband. She watched her eyes brim with tears, then Bethany bolted from the room, leaving her chair spinning.

Selah tested the straps. Still not much give in them. She needed to restrict the flow of that drug into her ankle, and hope her strength increased.

She closed her eyes, resting her head from the chorus of lightning permeating her vision.

Just then the door at the other end of the room slid open.
The sound caught Selah's attention. She tipped her head to the side and squinted at the figure coming fast.

Treva shook her arm. “Selah, wake up!” She scrambled to loosen her restraints.

Selah soared with happiness. “Where'd you come from? I'm really sorry I made you angry. I saw my mother.” The fog dissipated from her brain, but she still seemed to ramble. She clamped her lips shut so as not to look sillier.

“I wasn't really angry. I already knew about Cleon and the rabbits.” Treva's nimble fingers pulled the torso strap through the table loops and threw it to the floor. She hauled Selah off the table and stood her on her feet.

Relief flooded over Selah. She had her friend back. She wobbled but managed to grab the table edge. “But how did you know?”

Treva swiftly pulled Selah's clothing from a drawer. “I read the first two pages of my uncle's letter. He noticed I liked Cleon and he didn't want his reputation sullied. He admitted it was all his fault and Cleon only came one time and didn't know anything.”

“But you've never mentioned a word to either of us.” Selah squinted at Treva, trying to make the three images of her meld into one.

Treva slid her boots over. “I figured he was too embarrassed but would say something one day. I love him enough to wait.”

Selah slid out the needles and pulled the sensors from her body. As soon as the clear drip ceased, her stamina returned. “So you were fooling with us when you pretended to be angry.”

Treva stripped the sensors from her back. “How else was I supposed to get out of there and try to get help? Besides, I had to hide my parents' papers again.”

“Help! You got help? Did you find Mojica?”

“No, not yet, but I got your mom and Dane free and Cleon is leading them out. So we don't have a lot of time before security is alerted. Let's go.” Treva hurriedly helped her dress.

“How did you know my family was here?” Selah squinted, trying to focus. Finally she just jammed her feet into the boots and wiggled them on.

“The secret room in my quarters is on the tip of a very old internal network. I heard Bethany talking to a man called Varro. I've heard that name enough times from Cleon to have it imprinted behind my eyeballs.” Treva grabbed her by the hand and dashed for the door.

19

A
t first Bodhi walked cautiously through the smooth-sided tunnels. It looked like giant worms had bored through solid limestone to build this maze wonder. A horizontal column of illumination from the ceiling traveled with him, stretching from so many feet behind to that same distance ahead. He tested it. No matter how slow or fast he traveled, it remained centered over him. He found a comfortable jogging speed and his breathing evened as his brain absorbed the chemicals from running. He calmed. Logic returned, overcoming his breakneck dash to be Selah's protector. He needed an actual plan to find her and then escape without the shootout of last time.

The air never changed. There was none of the dampness or musty smell he remembered from other caves. He kept to the corridors on the right but felt the narrow chamber curve to the west before straightening out. Strange. He smelled
flowers, and the hum of a loud machine vibrated in his head, making him wince as he approached what appeared to be the end of the tunnel. He slowed.

Bodhi felt a cool flush as the blood drained from his sweaty face. He strode to the wall and ran his hands over the full width of the smooth, cool limestone surface. What was this? There was no opening. He searched more of the wall surface. Why would the old man send him out like a dog chasing its tail? His chest started to tighten. Glade could be in danger. He swallowed hard. Selah could be in danger. He stared at the wall, trying to will it open.

He breathed hard, pacing back and forth. He ran a hand through his hair. What were his options? It was a long way back. If his internal clock still functioned, he figured he'd been in the tunnels for an hour. That was another hour back to the cavern and then traveling five miles by land to the Mountain. But he had no way of getting in. How had Selah gotten inside?

Bodhi turned to head back up the tunnel. A scraping rumble filled the space, vibrating the floor. He thought of running, but he'd be seen for quite a distance. He couldn't outrun a weapon. He turned in time to see a seamless door swing open at the end of the tunnel. He steeled himself for a fight.

The first woman through the door had to bend over through the opening. A long, dark ponytail dropped over her shoulder as she raised her head.

“Mojica!” Bodhi had never been so happy to see such a beautiful familiar face. If he hadn't been in love with Selah,
this was the kind of woman he'd have been attracted to—smoky eyes, high cheekbones, and great lips.

Mojica straightened to her six-foot stature, and her black beret missed the top of the circular tunnel by about four inches. Three more of her tactical force entered, clad in dark one-piece uniforms. Bodhi got to wear one of those high-tech uniforms when they'd carried out the rescue of the Landers.

“I have to admit that you're the last person I expected to find gracing this passageway,” Mojica said. Her hands fisted on her hips. “But I
was
waiting for you to show up pounding on the front door.” She motioned him to follow and went back through the doorway. Her forces brought up the rear.

Mojica led him through several corridors that looked to be made of Mountain stone on one side and a composite on the other. He hurried to keep up with her long stride. “You've got to help me—”

“Yes, Selah's here. I knew where she was up until about a half hour ago.”

Bodhi grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “If you knew she was here, why didn't you save her?”

Mojica shook her head and calmly pried Bodhi's fingers from her arm. “Selah walked in here of her own accord. I have special sensors that alert me the moment a Lander or progeny gets near the Mountain. It is not my place to stop her from anything. It is my domain to be of help when asked, and not until.”

Bodhi winced as they walked out into bright daylight.
“I'm asking! Help me get Selah safely out of here, please!” He shielded his eyes and looked up. A lazy blue sky appeared, with clouds and a brilliant orb streaming faux sunshine that gave off warmth.

“It's going to be a little difficult at the moment. Treva has apparently taken her into the Keepers' old tunnel system. They could pop up anywhere within the numerous miles of communities in the Mountain. I've got most of my TFs working on another operation at the moment.” Mojica led him into an area covered in sand and cactuses. Were they cactuses? Yes. How did he know that?

Mojica walked to the front of a flat-roofed mud-brick building.

“Not acceptable to me. I'll find her myself. I thought you were friendly to her cause, but I must be mistaken.” Bodhi turned away from the door opening.

Mojica yelled to a TF, “Stop him!”

The dark-clad tactical force member turned out to be another Amazon-like woman mirroring Mojica's stature. She stepped into Bodhi's path with her right hand on her hip weapon and her left palm out to stop him.

Bodhi glared at her and turned back to Mojica. “You're going to stop me? What is wrong with you? You helped save her father, and now you're going to let her be harmed?”

Mojica strode to his position in three long-legged steps. Standing toe-to-toe with her, Bodhi recognized her intimidating act of looking down her nose at him. He didn't feel threatened. In the past, he'd used the tactic himself.

“If you run around skittering like a protective boyfriend,
that's the fastest way to get her hurt. Have you noticed there are no sirens or alerts? Bethany Everling got her slacks handed to her the last time her private security force ran roughshod over the Mountain terrain, and she knows better than to raise an alarm that would bring the Politicos down on her again. With her husband turned into a head of cabbage, her influence is limited to the Science Consortium, not general governing.”

“I think you're just saying anything to placate me so I won't go look. But that's not going to be the case. And I don't skitter,” Bodhi said. He wanted to bluff her, but it was hard not having any idea where he was in the Mountain or how to find Selah.

Mojica let out a deep sigh and waved away the last of her TFs. “Technically, I'm the only one available to help you.”

Bodhi opened his mouth to protest. But protest what? He'd better settle for the help he could get, not what he wanted, even though he had the impression this woman didn't like him much. His internal clock was losing hours.

The humming in his head dropped a few decibels. He let out a sigh of relief.

Mojica looked at him sideways. “Did you feel that?”

“Yes,” Bodhi said. “It gave me a headache when I first encountered it in the tunnels. I got used to the vibration, but to have it cycle down is a relief. What is it?”

Mojica shook her head. “Nothing for you to worry about. I just didn't know that you as a transitioned Lander would be able to feel it.”

Bodhi raised his eyes to hers. “Your knowledge seems to
be much more current than the last time I was here.” It bothered him that he didn't have information on what or how much she knew, especially about him. Was she someone to be worried about?

“I have my sources. We've got to play this smart. I'm waiting for location information. They're somewhere in my Mountain, and I'll find them. The threat from Everling's wife is minimal.”

“How long is this going to take? I have to get her out of here in—”

“I know. The machinery cycled on about an hour ago, so an hour to get back to the Reliquary, and that gives us twenty-two hours at most to find her.” Mojica gestured him through the doorway.

This time Bodhi followed. “What is the Reliquary?” He glanced around as they walked into a control center.

“The cave with the grottos and the old man, where they're completing the configuration.” Mojica walked to a console with twelve small screens lined up in three rows of four views each. She ran her hands over the halo-buttons, changing the live views at different locations.

“How is it that you seem to know exactly what's going on?” He'd have felt more comfortable being the one to have the answers. The last time here, he'd taken it for granted that because she worked for Charles Ganston, she was on their side. Now he knew segments of the First Protocol were in a power struggle. So where did her interests fall?

Mojica smiled for the first time since he arrived. “This is my Mountain. Nothing happens here without me knowing. It will be sad to leave.”

“Why would you leave? Do you mean you're coming with us?”

Mojica looked up from her observations. “I—we—will be escorting your group out of here. It's time for everyone to go before it's sealed.”

“Before what's—”

A shrill wail echoed across the control room. Bodhi winced. It seemed to be the right decibel to cut through his brain. His eyes darted across the screens, looking for the offense.

Mojica slapped a nearby console and killed the sound. “My day just keeps getting better and better.”

“What is it? I don't see anything different on the screens.”

“That alarm tells me there's a Lander child coming into the Mountain.” Mojica slid into the seat in front of the farthest console and began changing camera angles with a virtual gimbal.

“Great! So you've located Selah.”

“No, I said a Lander child coming
into
the Mountain.” Mojica found the angle she wanted and zoomed in. She pointed to the screen. “That's the one.”

The wide-angle lens panned, then faced an entrance Bodhi hadn't seen before. There was a wide area holding AirWagons, SandRuns, and other travel conveyances. He stared as the figures came into focus—a man and a deeply tanned woman with an abundance of curly yellow hair tied back haphazardly. The man's back faced the camera, but he was tall with dark hair. He turned slowly to face the area of the camera.

Bodhi narrowed his eyes. “Jaenen Malik—but he's no Lander child!”

“So you know Jaenen? How much do you know about him?” Mojica pursed her lips.

“I know he's a navigator and Glade hired him to find Selah's family.”

Mojica slammed her fist on the console. “I knew I'd heard that name before—from Chavez.” She turned to Bodhi. “Selah's family has been here a few weeks. Varro Chavez had them signed in personally by Bethany Everling.”

“I need to tell Glade about this.” Bodhi's head swam. It seemed like everyone concerned with Selah was winding up here at the same time. Or maybe it was the flowers he kept smelling. They seemed so close. He had looked around twice for them and neither time could locate the annoying fragrance.

“I told Glade when he left here we'd give him a briefing on the changes since he went into captivity. But he wouldn't listen. Hiring Jaenen was foolhardy. I don't understand why someone didn't warn him.”

Bodhi tensed. “Warn him about what?”

“That Jaenen Malik is part of the opposition Protocol that would like nothing better than to extinguish Glade and get control of a novarium of Selah's heritage.”

“But why would he be here now?” Bodhi didn't see how Jaenen coming into the Mountain could have anything to do with Selah. They hadn't come together.

“I'd say he's found a hedge of some sort. Everything he does involves money—for him. I bet I know whose child he
has.” Mojica led him across the control room to the gear lockers. “Let's go. Our priorities are changing faster than I can count disasters. You need to change clothes and look like one of my TFs so we can move about unhindered.”

“We have to get Selah's family out too. Can we track where they are?” Bodhi worried about leading extra people, but if he could be the one to bring Selah the family she had been yearning for, he'd do it.

“I knew where they were yesterday during our immigrant briefing. But barging in there and saying they have to leave with you—a stranger, and a Lander at that . . .” She shook her head.

Bodhi had forgotten his lineage could be a factor. The outside world he lived in was accepting of and unimpressed by his mark.

Mojica directed him to the spares rack. “Here, cover your head before you cause a riot.” She handed him a beret and headed back to her station.

He'd been through this before and knew how to equip himself. He hurriedly stripped and got into the one-piece suit. He slid his feet into the special boots, hooking the latches with a resounding thud. It felt good to be back in this gear again. The biomechanics of the suit tapped into his body through skin-to-material contact, regulating his chemical reactions to bring about optimum cognitive awareness.

Bodhi raised his heels to test the boots' springiness. They restored the nimbleness he'd lost in the transition. He could get used to being a TF. Securing the gear, he dashed back
to Mojica's station. His internal clock counted down . . . twenty-one hours and forty minutes.

“Using facial recognition, I've established several visuals that complicate our job.” Mojica pointed to the rightmost monitor on the bottom level.

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