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Two agents entered my room before Lady Black shut the door. She gestured gracefully to my computer. “See what you can find,” she said. “Miss Nickleson’s records don’t suggest an aptitude for computers.”
Goosebumps prickled my skin. It didn’t matter what my records said. The computer’s history could prove me guilty. I silently cursed as I remembered the camera at the top of the screen. What if security had been watching us this entire time?
But if they had been watching us, why check my computer? Why not arrest me right now?
I waited at the foot of my bed while the man and woman in black uniforms placed themselves between me and my computer. They wore the rising sun cog on their left sleeve and each carried a matte black gun on their hip. Thanks to the visors covering the upper half of their faces, the only way I could tell them apart was the general shape of their bodies and their name tags.
Agent Kirsch—the same agent whom I’d seen in the bathroom yesterday—clicked through my EYEblog account, searching through file after file of personal information. “That’s odd,” she murmured. “Take a look.”
The male agent—Agent Bodrov—leaned over the screen and typed in a new set of commands.
I didn’t move. I didn’t look at the bed. If Tim made even the slightest sound, we’d be out of the Community before we could recite the pledge, never mind how well we did on the Health Scan or if the computer’s history revealed anything.
His records did show an aptitude for computers.
I glanced at Lady Black, but her attention was solely on the agents. Bodrov typed at a pace that matched Tim’s, his face smooth as stone. “Nothing,” he said, surprised. “According to its history, the last time Miss Nickleson used this computer was to check her EYEnet account five hours ago.”
The other agent straightened, her hands linked behind her back. “I’d advise having Commander Rick’s tech master take a look. This is beyond us.”
“Thank you,” Lady Black told the agents. “Could we have a little privacy?” Her eyes twinkled under the LED light panels, and the two agents stepped outside. “There now, Miss Nickleson—” She settled onto the edge of my bed and gently patted the place at her side.
A lump formed in my throat. “Yes?”
“You have a delightful room, dear. Have a seat.” Lady Black smoothed the covers of the crisp fabric, toying with the hem between her fingers. “Your spider plant adds a nice touch.”
I swallowed hard and sat beside her. “My dad gave it to me before I left for college. You know... to bring me luck? Not that I’ve been having much luck lately.”
“That’s unfortunate. It looks like a lovely plant.” She smiled reassuringly, then pointed to my neck. “No charms or anything?”
Heat flushed to my cheeks. Though wearing charms wasn’t a law, everyone wore them. Charms were a way of identifying a person’s role in the Community. Tim had his light bulb efficiency charm. Lance had a globe charm, for history, and a gun charm, for security.
As for me, I’d never found one that looked appealing. The leaf charms always looked too fake, and the genetic DNA charms didn’t interest me.
“I never saw the point,” I admitted.
The lady tilted her head, and her long hair framed her face in dark wisps. Funny—in most pictures she had olive skin and bright green eyes. Here, the light made her look exceedingly pale.
“I’ll admit, the charms can be redundant.” Lady Black played with the pendant on her chest, and her lips quirked into a flirtatious smile. “Given your choice of hairstyle, maybe you’ll choose something like this.” She lifted the pendant and winked. Then her expression darkened. “However, there is the matter of you hacking the health network.”
“What do you mean?” My voice was too high to convince anyone of anything.
She let out a soft breath and took the moment to smooth the wrinkles in her satin dress. When she met my eyes again, my whole body went rigid. She knew. That look—
“Please don’t lie to me, Miss Nickleson,” she said, her voice firm. “Hacking the health network, or any government network, is an international crime. Most sentences end in death.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” I whispered.
The lady brushed my cheek with the tips of her fingers. After a moment, she tucked a fallen strand of my hair away from my eyes to behind my ear. “Believe me, I don’t wish that sentence on anyone as lovely as you.” She paused. “You’re worried about theophrenia, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Don’t fret, Miss Nickleson. You’re not a bad person. Many victims make irrational decisions once they’ve been infected.”
“So I am infected?”
“Let’s check.” Lady Black called Agent Kirsch back in. “Scan her.” The agent produced a small, rectangular box with several dials and buttons. “Don’t worry,” Lady Black told me, “it doesn’t hurt.”
Of course it wouldn’t. I let out my breath, allowing myself to relax. Maybe it was better this way. Lady Black seemed friendlier than the doctors who would normally perform the scan.
Kirsch knelt beside me, raising the scanner from my shoes to my skull, then back again. She stopped when it beeped twice.
“Verdict?” Lady Black laid a gloved hand on my shoulder, but even she looked concerned.
The agent showed her the scanner. “Positive.”
My breath caught in my throat. She had just confirmed that I was infected.
Lady Black eyed the screen and nodded. “Thank you.”
Agent Kirsch stepped away. The leader clasped my hands in hers. “I’m sorry, Miss Nickleson.”
I took a deep breath. “The old man said I was a plant elemental,” I said, testing her reaction while the agent packed her scanner away. “I’ve been having hallucinations of plants... growing... for me. Faster than plants would normally grow.”
Lady Black smiled gently and, for just a moment, I could see where Sam got her sympathetic tendencies. “Hallucinations are different for each victim.”
There was that whole list on the screen. Plants, flight, persuasion...
“He said your power is persuasion. What did he mean? What’s going to happen to me? He said he was my grandfather. I checked my family database. The old man and my grandfather look related. Who is he?”
The lady pursed her lips. She settled my hands on her knee, then leaned into my ear and whispered softly. “Don’t worry yourself about the old man. He has theophrenia, and he’s had it for a very long time. We’ve lost him to the plague.” She stroked my cheek, searching me with her eyes. “We need to give you a shot to protect you, all right?”
I squirmed at the thought of a needle, but Agent Kirsch situated herself at my side and Lady Black lifted my chin with her forefinger. “The old man needs treatment. He’s deluding others and exposing them to disease, just like you’ve been exposed. You can’t deny the hallucinations, can you?”
“No, but still—”
“Come with us, Miss Nickleson. We’ll answer your questions.” She offered me a smile.
I started. “You will?”
There was movement in the corner of my eye, and then the needle plunged into my arm. I hadn’t even seen the agent roll up my sleeve. Hadn’t even noticed—
Everything went gray and fuzzy, like I was moving too slow and everyone else was moving too fast. I squinted at the door, trying to clear my vision. My whole body felt weak, like a broken tree branch hanging by fibers.
“Everything will be fine,” Lady Black crooned. “But we need to get you someplace more secure than a university campus. The injection will temporarily protect us, but we shouldn’t chance any more exposure than necessary. The old man has done enough already.” She looped her arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the door.
“Wait—how does injecting me protect you?” I stumbled away from her and grabbed my backpack from beside the nightstand, then shoved my phone and textbooks inside. Maybe I could study while I was gone.
“We can’t risk the bacteria mutating,” Lady Black explained. “This way, you don’t put anyone else at risk.”
That didn’t make sense, but it sounded right. And Community, I felt sick. My plant... So lifeless. Just a cold, dead... living plant.
I tried to puzzle how that worked.
“Don’t forget your coat,” Lady Black said, handing me the jacket I’d worn earlier. “The day is cold.”
Coat. Got it.
The two agents flanked us as Lady Black led me down the hall, one arm around my shoulders, the other helping steady me. Several students stopped on their way back from lunch and stared. None of them approached. They knew I had failed.
“You’ll feel better soon enough,” Lady Black told me. “These agents will answer your questions, and after I return from this afternoon’s speech, I’ll do the same.”
The whole hall spun like a centrifuge and I staggered on my feet. Lady Black steadied me, her grip firm but gentle. We took the stairs. Sam nearly bumped into us as we turned the corner. She held her books to her chest, curls bouncing as she jumped. “Jenna?” She gaped at me, then at the agents, then at Lady Black. “I—” She ducked her head and quickly retreated, then peeked at me from under her bangs. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to tell Lance?”
My chest clenched tight. She’d swoop in on him the moment I was gone. Or maybe... maybe she’d have some pity on me and give him space. Besides, someone had to tell him, and I doubted the guards would.
“Thanks,” I told her.
The agents lead me through the back door of the dormitory. More agents stood around the patio, their bodies as rigid as the stone walls. An armored van was parked across from us with the rising sun half-cog painted across its side, glinting with a metallic red sheen.
Community... They were taking me away, just like when they took Galina.
I turned to Lady Black. “Am I going to be incinerated?”
She gave me a puzzled smile. “No, dear. Where in the Community would you get that idea?” She leaned into my ear. “I know you’re disoriented, but you have to go with them. Relax, be strong—”
I could relax. I could be strong.
I stepped into the back of the van. Three cushioned seats lined one side, each with heavy-duty seat belts. On the other side, a long bench was bolted to the frame. Just above the bench were rows of locked, metal boxes that formed an upper compartment.
Agent Kirsch strapped me in place while Bodrov took the driver’s seat.
“The security center’s about thirty minutes out,” Kirsch told me. “I realize we may have intruded on your normal lunch schedule. Can we get you anything? Water? A snack bar?”
My stomach churned, but I nodded. “Thanks.”
While the agent retrieved my so-called lunch from the metal compartment, Lady Black knelt beside me. “I promise I’ll answer your questions when I return. Try not to worry yourself.” She kissed my cheek. My skin tingled at the touch of her lips and I nodded.
She patted my shoulder and disappeared out the back of the van, closing the doors behind her. They locked with a clang and a thud. The agent sat a snack bar in the adjacent seat.
“How are you feeling?” Kirsch asked. She took her place on the bench. “The injection can be a doozy.”
“I’ve had better days.”
“Don’t worry. The feeling will wear off.”
I turned my attention to the front window, which was partially obscured by a metal grid separating the back of the van and the cab. The campus blurred into a lulling scene of spruce and pine as the van started down the road. Stark buildings protruded from the landscape as we passed through the suburb where my parents lived.
All the housing here was made from the same smooth concrete, two and three stories high. Farther down the street, the drab gray and tan colors extended into one-story buildings of commerce: a bank where my dad worked, a diner for the early morning crowd, and a general store with special treats like chocolate candy bars. The closer we got to the edge of town, the faster my heart raced, and I gripped the edge of the seat so tight that I left little nail marks in the faux leather.
No more visits to the bank. No more chocolate bars.
The distant thump of the wheels on the smooth pavement gave way to the van’s silence.
Too quiet.
“Why did I get sick from the pill?” I asked, sitting up in my seat.
Kirsch glanced to the front of the van. “It’s what happens when you contract theophrenia,” she said. “The pill detects neurological damage and causes a minor reaction.” She craned her neck toward me, but I couldn’t see her face through the visor. “You’re supposed to go to the doctor. They recognize the symptoms and get you checked out.”
Oh.
“So... I’ve been carrying the plague for half a year?”
“It’s possible. Why didn’t you go to the doctor?”
“I was more efficient without it,” I said, closing my hands in my lap. I might never see my parents again. Or Tim. Or Lance... Lance and Tim were with me right before I got caught. We were hackers. That cleared my head, at least for a moment.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I asked sharply.
Kirsch clapped her hands on her knees and sat straighter. “Well, Lady Black wants to speak with you. They’ll take you to a treatment facility after that.”
“Where are we going now?”
“The prison. We’ll wait in the security center until the speech is over. It’s easier to contain a possible outbreak there than on campus.”
I lowered my eyes and toyed with the wrapper of the snack bar. My attempts to be more efficient had put everyone at risk. But where had I picked up the disease? It wasn’t like I ever left St. Petersburg. Someone must have brought it in from one of the other Communities.
“What’s the treatment? I asked the councilor and my biology professor, but neither of them knew.”
“We try not to go into much detail,” Kirsch explained. She motioned to the snack bar. “You need to keep up your strength.”
My stomach wasn’t as queasy now, so I unpeeled the wrapper and took a bite. It was honey flavored granola and surprisingly calming despite the injection’s effect on my stomach. “What can you tell me?”
“The treatment depends on how far the bacteria has progressed. Therapy and mental training help combat minor incidents. There’s surgery for more advanced cases.” She paused, rubbing the tips of her fingers together.
I waited, but when she didn’t elaborate, I sat the snack bar back on the seat.
“What are beasts?” I wriggled in my seat, easing the seat belt from cutting into my shoulders.
Her head turned sharply. “What are you talking about?”
Given her reaction, I probably shouldn’t have said anything. But I was already going to the treatment facility, so what did it hurt to ask? “There was a cell with a beast in it. It looked different. Cat-like eyes, pointed ears, a different facial structure. What was it?”
Kirsch frowned. “Where did you see this picture?”
“It was—never mind,” I finished, but her shoulders tensed.
“That information is not available to the public. Who showed you that image?”
I shook my head. They already knew I couldn’t have hacked the computer, and anything I said might incriminate Lance or Tim. “Something the old man showed me,” I lied, turning my attention to my sneakers.
“Don’t believe everything he told you,” Kirsch warned. “People in the later stages of theophrenia are masters at lying. That’s how the plague spread so far in the pre-Community days. Anyway, that ‘beast’ you saw was probably a photo edited by terrorists.”
I stashed my hands in my pockets, my palms sweating. The “picture” I’d seen wasn’t a photo, and if the feed had been edited by terrorists, then what was it doing in a government network?
The van slowed and I cringed as my stomach did another somersault. The prison gate loomed over the road. The chain link fence could open for armored vehicles to move in and out, and two guards stood just outside. Both wore stiff gray uniforms. Upon prompting from Bodrov, they opened the gates.
He drove the van around the side of the building, and the engines quieted as he parked. Agent Kirsch released my seat belt. “Come. We’ll wait in one of the holding rooms until Lady Black returns.”
Cold air gusted in as Bodrov unlatched the doors. I pulled my jacket tighter and shouldered my backpack as I hopped down from the van. The world spun into a jumbled blur of dead grass and gray sky.
“Easy, now,” Agent Bodrov said, moving to steady me. “You’re feeling the effects of the injection.”
My throat constricted. Thick pines created a shadowy forest around the smooth, concrete compound, and I shuddered. The agent looped his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you inside.”
I paused. There was something in the sky. It was small, dark, and quickly approaching. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. It didn’t look right. The approach was too direct to be a bird, and it was too oddly shaped. I pointed. “What’s that?”
Both agents looked up at the same time, hands reaching for their guns.
Suddenly my breath was punched from me and I stared at the sky from my back. I gasped for air, trying to breathe, and rolled onto my side. A blast of cold, moist air twirled around us. Something large—human—flew overhead, and then landed in a crouch with no visible wings or method of transportation. The flying man leveled a gun at the two agents.
“Alec! Behind you!” a voice shouted.
The flying man—Alec—spun and fired at guards approaching from the gate. One of the guards dropped lifeless to the ground, and Alec leapt into the air. He circled once, evading their fire. A dark green and brown suit hugged his skin, complete with shiny plastic plates on his elbows and knees and across his chest.
Bodrov grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. “Move!” He pushed me toward a metal door. I stumbled and lost my sense of direction as a young man with short blond hair streaked past us toward a third intruder—a burly man in a dark green jacket. The man snatched Kirsch by the collar of her uniform. “Where’s the man you took in yesterday?” he demanded. He slammed her against the wall. The agent rammed her knee into his stomach and the burly man gasped for breath as she twisted around him and latched her arm around his throat. She brought her gun to the back of his head.
The flying man—Alec—dropped from the sky. He bowled into Kirsch, ramming her into the concrete wall. The concrete shuttered, spewing broken chunks. As the burly man picked himself up, the grainy dust cleared, revealing a gaping hole in the side of the prison.
Bodrov let go of my arm and thrust his palm toward the burly man, who went flying as if an invisible force had slammed into his chest. Bodrov cocked his gun.
I couldn’t look away.
Not only did the intruders have strange abilities, but Bodrov did, too. I couldn’t breathe. I was hallucinating. Delusional. The burly man had dog-like claws for nails. His face was haggard and rough, scarred with thick, pink lines, and his reddish hair was gnarled and knotted past his shoulders. I rarely saw a man’s hair so long—the only exceptions were Master Matoska and the occasional leader.
Bodrov leveled his gun at the intruder’s head, the visible half of his face twisted in rage. I started to edge away from him when a cold gust nearly knocked me over, encrusting the agent’s vest with a thin layer of ice. More ice encased his gun. Behind him, the burly man bolted through the hole.
I had to get out of here. If I could get to the front door—
I turned to find the blond-haired man in the form-fitting, blue-gray suit standing directly behind me. “You’re cuter in person,” he said, winking. “Name’s Chill. Now, let’s get you to safety.” He grabbed my hand, his fingers cool against my skin, and yanked me toward the outer perimeter of the facility. I dug my heels into the ground, trying to slow us down and get back to the building, but instead, we ran face-first into an invisible wall.
I tripped over my feet, but Chill turned on his heel, ice forming across his fingers.
“Get behind me,” he warned.
Bodrov strode toward us, cocking his gun and aiming.
“But—what in the Community is going on?”
“Now!” Chill’s determined expression mixed with fear, and he ushered me back. Ice formed around the barrel of the agent’s gun. Bodrov tried to break the encasement, and when that didn’t work, he simply looked at us and lowered his weapon.
Without warning, Chill’s head snapped back. His face was caught in surprise as he collapsed in a crumpled heap on the grass.
What just—
His neck was broken.
Bodrov strode toward me, his gait slow and heavy. He motioned for me to step aside and I moved back. The man was dead. Somehow—somehow the agent had killed him.
The agent pointed his gun at the intruder’s body and fired a solitary shot into Chill’s skull from less than a meter away. Something warm spattered against my hand. I choked. Moments ago, Chill had been living. Then—his neck snapped?
Bodrov removed the gun from the man’s holster and grabbed my upper arm. “Come with me.”
I staggered after him. “Who were they? Their abilities...” I tasted vomit in my mouth. “Let go of me! You did something—but you’re supposed to be Special Forces. How could you—” My words merged into some mixture of Russian and English, and I wasn’t even sure those were coherent.
Bodrov sighed, his shoulders slouching before he returned to his usual erect posture. “I think you would be safer if we had you in the coolers. The suspension will keep the disease from progressing.”
My whole body threatened to collapse, but Bodrov guided me over the rubble. Just inside the building, Agent Kirsch lay at an odd angle, her body broken from the impact. Nearby, Alec lay with bullet wounds in his back. Dead.
Why was this happening? Was I imagining this?
Bright blue efficiency lights gleamed in the sterile halls. My limbs felt heavy and weak, but Bodrov guided me down hall after cold, gleaming hall, all the way to the coolers.
A couple guards in gray security uniforms hurried past, trading comments through their radios. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I’d made myself a criminal. I’d stopped taking the pill and risked everyone around me. I’d connived Tim into hacking the health network. I’d finally crossed that line between stupid rules and one they’d kill me for. And I’d been wrong. After half a year of not taking the pill, I’d contracted theophrenia. That fact hit me like a punch to the gut.
Bodrov guided me into a small room lined with four tall, cylindrical tubes. Tiny blue LEDs shone from the metal ceiling panels and reflected on the frosted glass.
Before now, the only functioning coolers I’d seen were in the training detention center of the security building. Here, two of the coolers were occupied. One held the burly man with claws, and the other held the old man. They slumped against the glass, frozen in sleep and covered with a thin sheet of frost.
“Your backpack, please.”
I gave it to him. He placed it in a locker at the back of the room.
“It’ll be here for you once Lady Black gives the okay for your release.”
I doubled over, shaking. I didn’t dare look at the shining blue tubes any longer than I had to.
“Miss Nickleson—”
Bodrov positioned himself by a computer console at the side of the room and pressed a key. The front panel of a cooler slid up. It hissed and let out a cloud of chilled air.
“I wish the best for you.” He tried to give me a smile, but it looked forced. “It won’t hurt.”
Of course not. I knew how coolers worked. I wouldn’t feel anything. I’d just stand there, frozen in sleep, never knowing if I’d wake again.
If I went in, I might never come out.
Horrified, I spun around to face Bodrov. I clutched the crinkly fabric of his sleeves and spread my feet to get better footing on the rubber grate—anything to keep him from putting me in one of those things.
I yipped and flailed as my feet left the floor. An invisible force gently pressed my arms to my sides and pushed me into the tube. I stared at Bodrov. “What are you doing?” Theophrenia. I had theophrenia— The agent retreated from the glass. The door to the cryogenic unit snapped shut. My feet touched the floor again.
“Wait! No!” I pounded my fists on the glass. My palms stung from the useless struggle. Fog rose through the little holes in the floor, obscuring the man outside. The tube was so small. I barely took a step back before my shoulders touched the glass walls. Ice seeped through my clothes.
I frantically searched the tube for a sign of escape. Ceiling—metal, with numerous little holes. Floor—same. Wall—cylindrical, translucent, no escape—
The room drifted.
