“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY are?” Taylor shouted.
Nine ground his teeth together as he paced back and forth. “Relocated for their own protection. That’s all Earth Garde told me. After they already took them.” He pressed his knuckles into his metal palm. “Greger didn’t even have the balls to tell me in person.”
Their words echoed off the walls of the service area beneath the training center. Their hidden lair seemed so much bigger now that two-thirds of the Fugitive Six were gone. Taylor stood next to the bulletin board covered in their intel about the Foundation. All that digging seemed pointless now and the room, once a safe place for Taylor and her friends, felt cold and empty.
“They took them,” Taylor said, still in disbelief. “Snatched them up just like the Foundation would have.”
“I don’t know if that’s a fair comparison,” Malcolm said. He stood in the middle of the room, between Nine and Taylor, his hands out and open, perpetually ready to calm someone down. “We don’t actually know the full story here. It’s possible Earth Garde got wind of some threat and took them into custody for their own protection.”
“I thought the Academy and Earth Garde were the same thing,” Isabela said. She sat at the table, looking more cool and collected than the others. Her nails clicked repeatedly against the laminate surface, the only sign she was feeling any anxiety about what was going on. Taylor envied her friend for being so in control.
“Our responsibility here is to train and take care of young Garde,” Malcolm replied. “Once you’re promoted to Earth Garde, the UN is in charge until your five-year service period is over. Ultimately, they call the shots, especially considering how this incident with the Harvesters happened outside the Academy.”
A chill crept up Taylor’s spine. Wasn’t this exactly what Einar had described to her back in Iceland—that Earth Garde was just a bigger, more public version of the Foundation? She bit the inside of her cheek.
Nine snorted. “Oh, bullshit, Malcolm. If there was some threat from this dumb-ass scandal, there’s nowhere safer than here.”
“I don’t disagree with you,” Malcolm replied. “I’m just explaining the way the laws—”
“How do you figure?” Taylor interrupted, staring at Nine.
“What?”
“How do you figure they’d be safer here?” She asked. “You couldn’t keep them safe from these Earth Garde people, couldn’t keep us safe from those Harvesters and the Foundation in the first place. How would you keep them safe from whatever comes next?”
Nine stopped pacing and glared at her. “Are you doing your little bad-girl routine right now? Because I am not into it. And blaming me for you guys running off and stepping in shit, I mean, wow, that’s rich.”
“I’m not blaming you for that,” Taylor replied. “I’m blaming you for being crap at your job.”
Nine locked eyes with Taylor for a tense couple of seconds, no one else in the room saying a word. Then, he turned pointedly away and looked at Lexa, her fingers bouncing seamlessly across the two keyboards. Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed from a recent lack of blinking.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” Nine said.
“When we hacked Greger’s account, I left open a back door into Earth Garde’s network,” she replied. “If there’s something here about where they took Ran and Kopano, I’ll find it.”
Malcolm cleared his throat, peering uncomfortably over the top of his spectacles. “I have to ask . . . to what end?”
“What do you mean?” Nine replied. “So we can bust them out, obviously.”
“Bust them out,” Malcolm repeated. He put his hand on Nine’s shoulder. “You’re thinking like it’s the old days, Nine. These aren’t Mogadorians who have captured the students. Their lives aren’t in danger.”
“You don’t know that,” Taylor butted in. “And anyway, even if they are safe with Earth Garde, they still shouldn’t be under arrest or detained or whatever. The whole scandal is bullshit. We had every right to defend ourselves against those Harvesters.”
Malcolm turned to her. “Earth Garde are our allies. People we’ve trained and fought alongside work for them. They’re good people. If this is what they think is best . . .”
“Then why are they acting like snakes?” Isabela asked, her voice calmer than Taylor’s but no less sharp. “Why do this behind your backs?”
“I don’t agree with their methods and I wish we were kept more in the loop,” Malcolm conceded. “But, I imagine Greger knew that, if he was up front about Earth Garde’s decision, he would encounter . . . resistance.”
“I would’ve tried to stop them,” Nine grumbled.
“And what kind of damage would that have led to?” Malcolm asked. “No. I think our research down here has made us all a bit paranoid. We can trust Earth Garde. I truly believe that.”
“The only people I trust are either in this room,” Taylor said, “or somewhere they shouldn’t be.”
Before Malcolm could respond, Lexa made a noise. Her breath caught in her throat, eyes widening. Whatever information she’d hacked into, it wasn’t good news. Nine was immediately beside her, reading over her shoulder, his mouth moving as he went.
“You better look at this,” she said to Malcolm.
Taylor and Isabela exchanged a look. While the administrators were all huddled on one side of the table, Taylor and Isabela were being kept in the dark as usual.
“Secrets don’t make friends,” Isabela said with an annoyed toss of her hair.
Malcolm had gone a shade paler from whatever he read. “I think . . . I think we better adjourn this meeting for now so we can discuss some, ah, administrative matters.”
“Oh, hell with that,” Taylor replied.
With her telekinesis, Taylor took hold of Lexa’s laptop and levitated it out of reach before the Loric woman could grab it. Nine stepped back—the computer almost hit him in the chin—but made no effort to stop Taylor.
“Hey!” Lexa shouted as she shot up from the table. “That is not okay!”
“Let them see it,” Nine said grimly. “They deserve to know.”
Taylor turned the laptop in the air so she could read the screen, Isabela coming over to stand next to her. Lexa had accessed a report filed to Earth Garde’s top secret security database.
INCIDENT REPORT 0010319
. . . developing . . .
Earth Garde Central contacted by SIS agents in London responding to a fire in the Saint John’s Wood neighborhood where a detachment of Peacekeepers was deployed. A home registered to Reginald Barnaby, deceased father of Earth Garde asset #003-NB was burned to the ground. Preliminary investigation by local authorities indicates arson.
Bodies of Peacekeeper detachment recovered on scene. All operatives KIA. Autopsies suggest fatalities occurred prior to fire. Involvement of foreign government and/or terrorist organization suspected. Investigation in process.
Whereabouts of #003-NB and mother remain unknown. #003-NB sister and brother-in-law were staying at a nearby hotel and have been detained until investigation concludes. Media blackout protocol in place with assistance from SIS and local authorities. Minimizing dissemination of sensitive information is a priority.
. . . developing . . .
As she finished reading, Taylor forgot to maintain her telekinetic grip on the laptop. It would’ve fallen to the floor if Nine hadn’t snagged it with his own telekinesis and returned it to the table in front of Lexa.
“They . . . they got Nigel,” Taylor said, covering her mouth with her hand. “Jesus. What the hell is going on?”
“He’s not dead,” Isabela replied, her voice cracking a little. “The report said they couldn’t find him, right?”
“Yes,” Malcolm quickly jumped in. “Those Peacekeepers that went with him, however . . .”
“They’re keeping this stuff from us,” Nine said, and he resumed his pacing. “Someone burned down Nigel’s house three days ago and took him and no one’s told us. Greger’s people came in here and grabbed two of my students . . .”
“And don’t forget Caleb,” Isabela said. “You think that is a coincidence, hm? That he would be transferred out just now?”
“Let’s not get paranoid,” Malcolm said. “We need to keep our heads.”
“You keep your head, old man,” Isabela snapped. “You’re not the one in danger.”
Malcolm pursed his lips and turned to Nine, again using that fatherly tone to try calming him down. “We will figure this out, Nine,” he said.
Taylor understood that Malcolm was only trying to protect them and to abide by the rules—she imagined her father would’ve taken a very similar tact. Still, that didn’t make her any less angry. Her friends were being picked off one by one by sinister forces and the people tasked with protecting them were basically sitting on their hands. She strode forward and put herself in Nine’s path.
“What are you going to do about this?” she asked hotly.
Nine flexed the fingers on his cybernetic arm, looking down at Taylor. His eye twitched as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
“We’ll start making inquiries,” Malcolm said. “We’ll talk with our allies.”
“You’ll sit around,” Taylor said. “And wait for them to come for the rest of us.”
“We have an entire student body to think about,” Malcolm piped in again. “Taylor, please believe us when we say that we’ll do everything we can to help Nigel, Ran, and Kopano. I’m—I’m as angry about this as the rest of you. But we can’t do something that would endanger what we’ve built here.”
“Malcolm’s right,” Lexa said. “We need to play it smart.”
Taylor ignored the others, still looking up at Nine. He was the one with Legacies. He’d been chased across the world, fought for his life, battled the Mogadorians. Only he could understand what Taylor was feeling—the need to do something, anything.
Nine’s shoulders slumped. He looked away from Taylor.
“They’re right,” he said quietly. “We have to think about the bigger picture here. There’s a right way to attack these problems . . .”
Taylor snorted and started to turn away, but Nine grabbed her hand.
“Believe me, I’d love to rush out of here and start punching things until this was all straightened out,” Nine said quietly. “But life doesn’t work that way anymore. Not for me.”
“We aren’t actually going to listen to those peidão, are we?”
“No. Of course not.”
Taylor and Isabela moved briskly away from the training center on the path back to the dorms. The night was cold enough to make Isabela dramatically chatter her teeth and rub her arms. The campus was deserted, the rest of the student body happily asleep, ignorant to all the forces that would exploit their Legacies if given half the chance. Taylor envied them.
“Good,” Isabela said. “Because, the way I see it, you owe every one of us a rescue. Time to pay up.”
Taylor snorted and shook her head. She was glad to have Isabela at her side, her own confidence bolstered by the Brazilian’s brashness.
“Should I sneak us out of here?” Isabela asked. “Even the added security is no match for my skills. We could be on our way to the nearest secret Earth Garde facility in no time.”
“That’s the thing about secret facilities, though,” Taylor replied. “They’re secret. What happened to Ran and Kopano is totally screwed up, but at least we know they’re still in the Earth Garde system somewhere. Safe. I’m more worried about Nigel. That fire . . .”
“Smells like the Foundation, yes?”
“Yeah.”
Isabela shook her head vigorously. “Professor Nine—pah. I can’t believe him. He hulks around all badass but when it comes down to it, when Nigel is taken and people murdered he’s like, Oh, sorry, we must listen to the dorks and stay here. All those boring nights planning and when something finally happens, they puss out. Hey, where are we going?”
Taylor had turned off the path that would lead them back to the dorms, instead leading Isabela towards the cul-de-sac of small cabins where the on-site faculty lived.
“Nine’s not totally neutered yet,” Taylor replied. She held up an access card with the faculty emblem on it, the kind that would unlock any door in the Academy. “He slipped me this.”
“Aha. Good boy.”
“Way I see it, we’ve only got one lead to the Foundation. I know we’ve spent the last couple of months trying to set her up, to get her to recruit me, but . . . the situation has changed.”
“Dr. Linda,” Isabela said quietly, a predatory smile spreading across her face. “You want to confront her.”
“I’m going to wake her up and get answers out of her,” Taylor answered darkly. “One way or another.”
The two of them slipped between cabins, the windows all dark, everyone asleep. They closed in on the one where Dr. Linda lived. She had a few flowerpots on her doorstep and a peace sign pinwheel that turned lazily in the night air. Not exactly the lair of a blackhearted spy. That’s what makes her so dangerous, Taylor reminded herself.
“You are thinking of beating answers out of her, yes?” Isabela whispered, reading her mind. “Torture, maybe?”
Taylor frowned. “If that’s what I have to do . . .”
“I think . . . ,” Isabela replied, smirking now. “I think I know a better way.”