CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SINK OR SWIM

MY LEGS LURCHED over my head. My arms flailed as if they didn’t belong to me. My body bent backward and I thought my neck would snap. I was traveling in directions I didn’t know existed. I felt the grit of seaweed against my skin and had no idea which way was up.

I willed myself to be still. Soon I was floating. Upward. My lungs were about to explode from my chest. I began swimming desperately. Kicking hard.

“Geeeeeahh!” I broke through the surface with a desperate sucking of air. My body spasmed. Seawater rushed into my mouth and I thought I would choke.

“Help! Help me!”

Cass.

His voice was to my left. Not far. I took three crazy deep breaths. Swimming blindly, I called out, “Where are you?”

But my voice was lost in the spindrift. I fought against the swells and whitecaps, taking my direction from Cass’s screams. But now his voice was getting weaker. “Hang on!” I shouted. “I’m—”

My arm hit something solid.

It was Aly, facedown in the water. I yanked her head up but she was motionless, eyes rolled back into her head. I pulled her against me, my front to her back, and squeezed her abdomen hard. Nothing.

I turned her around and put my lips over hers, inhaling as hard as I could. Then exhaling. Pumping her system with oxygen.

Her body seized up. She jerked back and coughed a gob of seawater and long-digested quail.

Marco’s voice boomed from my right. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” He was swimming toward us, his arms chopping through the rough water.

“Let me take her,” Marco said. “You get Cass.”

As he pulled Aly away, I tried to scan the area. The rain seemed to be coming horizontally, right into my eyes. “Cass! Where are you? Say something!”

A tiny moan was my only answer. I swam furiously until I saw a black lump emerging from the water’s surface. I reached below and grabbed an arm.

Cass’s head bobbed upward. He spluttered weakly. But he was alive. “Hold on to me and I’ll tow you in!” I said, flipping onto my back as I grabbed Cass’s hand.

“Aly…” he moaned. “She…”

“Marco has her!” I said.

Cass was trying to shout something, but I couldn’t understand him.

“I’m here!” Marco cried out in the darkness. “Follow my voice! Let’s swim to shore!”

“Where is it?” I yelled.

“I don’t know!”

In that moment, I knew we were dead. Left, right, forward, back—it all looked exactly the same. Marco was guessing where to go, towing Aly. And he was almost out of my sight. I was an okay swimmer but not great, and I’d swallowed a ton of seawater.

Lightning split the sky, followed almost immediately by thunder. It was getting closer. I hoped the wash of light would reveal some sign of land, but all I could see were rain and whitecaps.

Cass’s grip was getting firmer. He groaned. “Treat…ment…”

“What?” I shot back.

“Aly…” he said. “Missed her…treatment…”

I realized what he meant. Aly wasn’t seasick. Something else was wrong. Her illness was all about her treatment. The one she had blown off.

My hands plunged into the weed-choked water. I tried to measure my strokes, to conserve energy. But my fingers were weakening, and Cass slipped away. I saw in an instant that he didn’t know how to swim. He was slapping the water crazily, choking.

“Going…to die…” he said.

My lungs were filling up. My body felt as if it were full of solid lead. I reached desperately for Cass’s wrist and held tight.

His leg swung around and kicked up from underneath.

No. It couldn’t have been his leg. Something else was down there, thick and smooth, pushing up against my own feet. It was lifting me. Lifting Cass.

His hand unclasped. We were both sliding now, off to one side.

Shark.

I tried to swim away, but my strength was gone. The beast broke the surface of the water, its skin black against the storm. It was too big for a shark. Enormous. It must have been a whale, like the one that washed ashore. I felt around desperately for Cass.

He was barely afloat. All I could see were the whites of his frightened eyes.

“Swim!” I yelled. “Move your legs and arms! Come on!”

“No,” he shot back. “Jack, look—lights!”

I turned toward the undersea intruder. Its shadow was now a solid hull, its skin gleaming metal. At one end a light blinked on a small rectangular housing. As it rose, I could see shapes painted on its hull.

The letters K and I. And, between them, a star.

“She had about another half hour to live, even in the best of circumstances,” Professor Bhegad announced as he emerged from a hatch in the submarine’s control room. “The doctor has managed to stabilize her. She is undergoing the treatment and will continue when we dock.” He stepped into the small room and eyed us meaningfully. “Without any trickery, I trust.”

“Thank you,” I said, shivering.

Despite the tropical climate, our body temperatures had dropped while we were in the stormy sea. I was wet and shivering beneath an oversized KI beach towel. I sat opposite Cass and Marco on wooden benches, our knees touching. The submarine was small and cramped, but the dryness felt unbelievably good. My arms shaking, I sipped a cup of hot chocolate.

“This is my fault, P. Beg—I mean, Professor,” Marco said. “I did all the planning, organized the breakout all by myself—”

“You are an extraordinary athlete, Marco, not an actor,” Professor Bhegad said. He was sitting next to me, his face drawn and grim. “You do not need to cover for your friends. It is enough that I found you all alive.”

I glared at him. Was this another of his planned rescues, like the Miracle of the Monkey? It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Aly had rigged the surveillance system. He couldn’t have seen us. “Just how did you find us?” I asked.

“Why did I have to find you?” he snapped back at me. “Do you understand the absolute folly of what you just attempted? And the consequences you may have faced? By depriving Aly of the treatment, you nearly killed her.”

“Sorry, it was really stupid,” said Cass feebly.

Bhegad whirled on him. “Stupid is a small word. What you did was unforgivably reckless. Imagine if you’d succeeded. What happened to Aly would happen to you all. The operation unlocked your G7W gate, which saved your life. But the gate is unstable and can fail. The metabolic pathways are too weak. It’s like a dam—open it slowly and it will irrigate a landscape; break it and it causes a flood. Your powers will overwhelm your system and kill you. We have developed the treatments to adjust the energy flow. To preserve your lives. And you decide to take a toy boat into notoriously unnavigable waters during a storm? By the Great Qalani, this is not stupid, it’s insane. Suicidal.”

I knew I should have felt moved by Bhegad’s words. He had saved us. But his tone was angry and scolding, as if we’d just spilled coffee on his favorite scientific experiment.

“We’re grateful, Professor,” I said, “but you’re part of the reason this happened. What do you expect? Whether you lock people up in an underground bunker or in a tropical village, you’re still locking them up. Saving people’s lives is a great thing, so why do it in secret? Maybe there are hundreds more G7W carriers you could help—”

“There’s a good reason for the secrecy,” Professor Bhegad said.

“Atlantis!” I blurted out, staring at him levelly. “You’re turning us into super-charged slaves who will find Atlantis for you.”

My words hung uncomfortably in the room’s dankness.

Professor Bhegad’s eyes grew sad and distant, his face red from the humidity in the submarine. He paused, wiping his fogged glasses, then put them on and looked at me. “Jack, when you came out of the operating room, you were in a coma for two days. We monitored you, round the clock. You talked quite a bit in your sleep. Something about an explosion and an earthquake. A red flying beast. A hoglike thing resembling a cheetah. You called it a vromaski, I believe.”

Cass choked. Marco looked stunned.

“If I’m not mistaken, Jack, you’ve been having these visions for as long as you can remember,” Bhegad continued. “Do they sound familiar, Marco?”

Marco swallowed nervously. “He’s lying to you, Jack. Those are my dreams. You are messing with our heads, Professor.”

“No, he’s right, I did dream them,” I said. “I dream them a lot.”

“I do, too,” Cass piped up.

“This is ridiculous,” I said. “How can three people have the exact same dreams?”

“Four,” Bhegad said. “Aly has them, too. Same event. Same location. It is a place all four of you know well.”

“I thought you were a scientist, P. Beg,” Marco said with a baffled laugh. “I don’t need a PhD to know that’s impossible.”

“Do you know the term déjà vu?” Bhegad asked. “When you have this odd feeling I’ve been here before, even though you know you haven’t? That feeling is considered to be a fantasy, too. But our research shows that déjà vu is a connection to something real—some past event that left an unanswered question. Any of you could feel it, say, in a small coffeehouse while visiting Paris. Chances would be that your great-great-great-great grandfather fell in love there and never saw the woman again, or was attacked by a stranger who was never found.”

“So déjà vus are like memories from people who are dead?” Cass asked. “Ghosts of memories?”

“They are visions of real things,” Bhegad said. “We don’t pretend to understand them fully. But these visions exist—stored in that vault of mysteries, the ceresacrum! You are being called to see the destruction of Atlantis. It is a vision of what happened when its source of power was stolen, upsetting the balance that had existed for ages. We believe the power was divided into containers and hidden.”

“And where are we supposed to find them?” Marco said. “Antique shops?”

“Why us?” I cut in. “Why are we having these dreams? And how does the G7W marker fit in with all of this? And why are we the ones who have to find these…containers?”

“They are called Loculi,” Bhegad said softly. He thought for a moment and took a deep breath. “There is much I need to tell you, when you are all conscious. Suffice it to say, for now, that we are not the only ones bent on finding the Loculi. There is another group—and we must get them first.”

The hatch in the floor opened, and we could hear a rhythmic mechanical beeping. A silver-haired doctor poked her head into the hole and gave Bhegad a thumbs-up. “Signs are stable,” she announced. “Patient is conscious.”

“Any permanent damage, Doctor Bradley?” Bhegad asked.

The doctor scratched her head. “Her first words to me were, ‘We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.’”

“The Wizard of Oz,” Cass explained. “That means she’s okay.”

“Well, she will need a full day to sleep this off,” the doctor replied. “Perhaps they all will.”

Bhegad nodded, his eyes traveling from Cass to Marco to me. “I have no more wind to answer your questions,” he said. He checked his wristwatch. “It is now six A.M. Your training begins in exactly twenty-four hours.”