16

Selah clenched her hands to contain her fear, but her nails dug into her palms. Bethany had successfully turned Treva against them, and now their chances of getting out of the Mountain dwindled by the minute. Sorry would come later. Right now survival depended on a better focus. How to buy time with this woman, to be able to think? Maybe seeing what Bethany wanted would help Selah understand what to do next.

There were too many things in her head. Another flash. She winced and shook it away.

“I know, I shake my head too. That girl is not like us. She doesn’t understand what’s at stake here,” Bethany said. Selah sensed curiosity coming from her.

“What do you think you’re going to gain by having me here?” Selah figured as long as she kept her talking, the woman’s interest might ward off disagreeable surprises.

Bethany looked from Selah to Cleon to Charles Ganston’s shell. “I know he’s not going to wake up. But . . .” Bethany shrugged her shoulders. “I did, so just in case he can hear me, let’s move this discussion to a more private setting.” She motioned to the guards, who hustled Selah and Cleon from the room.

Selah and Cleon tried to walk together, but a guard stepped between, pushing them apart. At one point they were back in the city street, and Selah could sense Cleon had the urge to run. She’d thought about it herself. But they’d still be trapped in the Mountain, and the chance of getting a pulse rifle shot in the back was almost a hundred percent. She gave him the no look when he glanced up. He scowled but didn’t bolt.

After passing through enough corridors to make her dizzy and up a ramp, they stopped at a double-wide plascine wall. The guard hand-palmed a door. It swished open and he pushed Selah and Cleon in and closed it. Selah scrambled to find a way to open the door. The controls were either remote or only on the outside. Her hopes sank, but she refused to admit it was over. Could she connect with Treva mentally? She pulled Cleon down beside her on the long bench and began to concentrate. Nothing. She squeezed Cleon’s arm so tight he yelped. She released her grasp but went back to concentrating.

The far door slid into its wall. Bethany strolled in. “Don’t bother trying to do that mind communications stuff. These rooms are shielded to that frequency of your brain. Glade taught me that.”

“What do you want from me?” Selah tried to keep control of the discussion, especially now that Cleon was a broken man. The last time he’d been this despondent was at Raza’s death.

“Direct. I like that. I want your blood, and if you give it to me, then I won’t prosecute your brother. He actually did me a favor,” Bethany said without blinking an eye.

If she sacrificed herself, it could save Cleon. But could she trust Bethany to keep her word? The only thing she knew of this woman and her husband was their search for immortality.

“Why do you want my blood?” Selah knew the answer, but she hoped to buy time to find an escape route or maybe a way to reach Mojica. Hopefully she was still around.

“There is an ancient document about novarium. It says—”

“Where would you find an ancient document about Landers? I don’t think that’s possible. You must be lying. What do you take me for, a child?”

Bethany smirked. “I probably know more about you than you do. Did you know the ancient books say the novarium will bring new life?”

Selah faltered. She hadn’t heard that. But then again, up to this point, Glade had controlled everything she learned about novarium. Should she pretend she knew that tidbit and gamble the woman wasn’t making it up to trick her, or admit she didn’t know? Answer a question with a question. “What makes you think a statement like that is really true?”

“Because I’m a gambler, and I’ll take the odds that your blood will change me and correct this Mountain’s genetic problem forever.”

Selah tried a bluff of her own. “And what if I don’t want to give you my blood? One thing I do know is Landers can mentally keep you from getting their blood.”

Bethany hesitated. “I’m sure Glade informed you of the drugs we used on him to gain his compliance.”

“Don’t even try them on me. Novarium are immune to your original drug concoction, and you’ve never had any novarium for testing a new formula.”

Bethany didn’t know that was an outright falsehood. She didn’t seem as well versed in novarium as she’d let on, which made Selah all the more relieved. This vile woman didn’t have the advantage.

“Then you will doom this whole society and your brother to death,” Bethany said.

Selah’s heart rate ticked up. “I didn’t think you’d let me or my brother go anyhow. But why would you kill all these people because of me? This is your community.”

Bethany’s facade dissolved. There was no more benevolence. Selah sensed the woman’s madness, and it brought a cold shiver and another flash. This woman’s emotions were raw and savage, and they threatened to overwhelm her.

“Thought you might try to say no, so I’ve already begun the inoculations.” She looked down at the ComTex on her arm. “In four hours the cycle will be complete, and if you don’t give me your blood, the people will die.”

“I will die if I do that.”

“No, we’ll take it slowly over the course of a couple of weeks. Your body will replace what I take. You, as novarium, have an exceptional bio-compensation system.”

“You still haven’t told me why you need my blood. I know you’re trying to gain immortality, and my father said it doesn’t work that way.”

Bethany nodded. “Ah, Glade. I’d say send my regards, but you won’t be seeing him again. We’re very close to achieving the Third Protocol on our own. You will give us the needed boost to overcome the cellular degradation.”

Selah stopped. Bethany knew about the Third Protocol. How? Maybe less cooperation would get her answers just out of spite. “I’m not giving you anything. These are your people. The responsibility for their deaths is on you.”

“I’m sure Cleon would not agree with you if it were his life on the line.”

“Leave me out of it!” Cleon yelled. “You’ve already ruined my life, so a death sentence would end the pain. Go on, do it. Selah, don’t you dare give her your blood to save me, or I’ll kill my own self.” Cleon heaved several large breaths and pounded on the wall with a fist. She saw a tear in the corner of his eye before he turned away.

“I guess you heard my brother. He’s willing to be a sacrifice. You’ve got nothing.” Selah gagged on the words. They were going to die.

“I was hoping not to need to do this, but I really hate being pushed.” Bethany keyed her ComTex. “Show him in.”

Selah glanced between the door in front of her and the one behind her. Had she caused danger to Treva just to show she could stand up to Bethany? Her heart pounded and her mouth went dry. She didn’t want to think. She clutched Cleon’s hand.

The door Bethany had entered swished open.

A dark-clad figure with a week’s worth of beard growth and shaggy hair entered. Selah stared for a moment, then gasped. She let go of Cleon’s hand.

“Father!” Selah ran to Varro Chavez and threw her arms around his neck. Other than the beard and longish hair, he looked normal. Her heart soared. It would be all right now. “I’m so relieved to see you. Where are Mother and Dane? How did you know I’d be here?”

Selah felt a slight hesitation in his grip. She pulled back to look in his face.

“I’m happy you’re safe. We’ve been worried since you left,” Varro said, averting his eyes. He lightly patted Selah’s back.

Cleon watched from about ten feet away. Selah motioned him over. He shook his head.

“Chavez, tell her why she needs to cooperate with me.” Bethany grinned.

Selah glanced from her stepfather to Bethany. That was the first honest grin the woman had given all morning. Selah wondered why she seemed familiar with Father.

“Selah, my daughter, I need you to cooperate with Dr. Beverly,” he said. His lips twitched, and his body-speak indicated he was tightened in knots. Selah jerked away. It was unsettling to feel her stepfather’s unmasked emotions when his outward appearance showed the opposite.

“Father, I can’t work with that woman, but I’m sorry I left. We didn’t think you’d understand. Where are Mother and Dane? I’ve missed them so much.” The words rolled out in disorganized thoughts and fragmented sentences, but she had so much to say. This could still be fixed. She knew surely he’d understand if she explained and said she was sorry.

“Your mother and Dane are taken care of for now. You need to cooperate,” Varro said, his voice changing slightly in pitch.

Selah tried to smile. It felt wrong. She reached out to Cleon. “Come here. Say hello.”

Cleon shook his head, moving closer to the other doorway blocked by a guard. “I’m not going near him. I know that look. He’s not telling the truth. Something’s wrong. He knows.”

Selah winced. She tipped her head to the side. “Father, what did you mean about Mother and Dane being taken care of for now?”

Varro reached out to take her arm. “You need to do the small favor the Mountain needs and it will be over quickly.”

She slowly pushed away his hand. “It’s not a small favor! You have no idea what this woman is capable of doing. She just threatened to kill this whole community if I don’t cooperate.”

Selah searched his eyes for some recognition. They were the same as always, only now she was listening to his body-speak and not his words. He remained as calm as he’d been the day on the beach when Raza killed the Lander. The realization hit her hard and she staggered. She didn’t know this man.

Varro seemed to be counting unseen numbers, then turned to Bethany. “You started the inoculations already? That’s cutting it close. We need time to prep her.”

“Wait! No one’s prepping me for anything.”

“This thing is going to make me a wealthy man and help me pay one very large debt. Now, you wouldn’t deny me that, would you? It’s such a minor thing for you, and besides, you owe me for that dowry. Your body will recover from the blood loss.” Varro ran his hand through blond hair that came almost to his shoulders. Why hadn’t Mother cut that raggedness off?

“Father, please tell me this is a joke. I’ve got a lot to tell you, and I know you’ll be proud of me when you see how it worked out.” She had no doubt this wasn’t a joke, but she needed every extra second to think. Stupid questions took up time.

“Of course I’m proud, but this is no joke. There’s no time to get the Protocol matchup verified,” Varro said without emotion.

Selah’s mind screeched to a halt so fast she would later remember that she was on autopilot from the moment Varro Chavez said the word Protocol.

She turned to Cleon and started to back away. Her father—no, her stepfather—was hiding something. His emotions came through strong and simple. Deception. “Where are Mother and Dane?”

Varro moved forward and grabbed her arm. “Listen, Selah, we don’t have a lot of time. We can discuss this—”

“No!” Selah screamed, holding up a palm and wrenching her arm free from the attack as her training had taught her to do. The force from her palm sent Varro reeling backward into Bethany.

The door next to Selah slid open. A guard rushed in and they collided. As the guard started to fall, he thrust out his weapon. Selah snatched it. The unexpected weight pulled her down on top of him. She struggled to stand and keep possession.

Cleon bolted out the door as Bethany and Varro lunged forward.

Selah squeezed the trigger. Energy pulses burst from the barrel, forcing the weapon to jerk back and forth, peppering the walls and floor with smoldering burnt streaks.

Varro, Bethany, and the guard ducked for cover.

From behind, a pair of hands clasped Selah’s. Cleon. Relief flooded her stomach. She released the weapon to him and scrambled away from the fallen guard, charging out the door with Cleon close behind.

As he exited, Cleon spun and trained the weapon on the door until it closed. He fired several rounds at the palm pad. It exploded, the fried circuits black and crackling.

“Will that blast disable the door permanently?” Selah asked as they ran.

“I don’t know, but it will buy us time,” Cleon said.

Selah charged to a door opening. “In here! I think the color of this hall is familiar.” Her exceptional memory matched the colors with the configuration of door openings. Every time she stopped to think how she was doing it, it stopped working. Another novarium trait surfacing. She kept her concentration until they reached the city street. She snatched the pulse rifle from Cleon, shoved it under her tunic, then tightened her belt to keep it in place.

Relief flooded her. She knew the way to Treva’s from here.

Cleon pulled on her arm. “Hold it. Are we going to Treva’s? She hates us.”

“Where else can we go? Answer fast before we draw attention or the guards catch up.”

“Ganston’s office. Maybe that skinny guy Jax is still there. He can find Mojica.” Cleon was looking more confident now. Selah wanted to argue Jax probably wouldn’t have the job anymore, but she couldn’t say for sure.

“Do you remember the way? I recall several instances of the same color hall and same number of doorways, just different configurations. It might take too long to figure out the right one.”

“Yes, I know the way.” Cleon navigated the halls like a rat Selah had once seen in a maze race. Or maybe she was projecting how crisscrossed her brain felt. In any case, he executed every turn perfectly, and in less than a minute they stood before Charles Ganston’s office.

Selah lifted her fingers to the door pad. Her hand lingered just out of sensor range. Should they trust another person from the Mountain? Cleon smacked the panel, pushed her inside, and waved the door closed behind them. Jax averted his eyes from the large wall monitor and turned to glance in their direction. His eyes widened.

Selah leaned over the front of the desk. “Do you remember me, Jax? Treva and Mr. Charles helped me get my father out the last time I was here.”

Jax’s head bobbed up and down. He backed away as his lips pressed to a thin line. “Yes, I remember you troubled children. It caused quite a stir here, yes sir, quite a stir.”

“Where or how can I find Mojica? We need her help right away,” Selah said.

“Yes, yes, I know exactly how to help. You hide in the inner office, out of sight, and I’ll make the call,” Jax said. He ushered them into Ganston’s office and closed the door.

“What are you doing? How do you know we can trust him?” Cleon pulled the pulse rifle from the back of Selah’s tunic.

“It was your idea to come here. Why did you suggest it if you weren’t sure?”

Cleon laid the rifle across Ganston’s desk and raised both hands to his head, running sweat back across his hair. “I don’t know. I panicked. After seeing Father . . .”

Selah shook her head. Her knees started to tremble as she began to weep. “That wasn’t real. There’s a reasonable explanation. They must be holding Mother and Dane hostage to make Father act like that. They must—”

Cleon grabbed her by both arms. “Stop. Listen to me!” The pressure of his fingers made her wince. She wanted to pull away but he wouldn’t let go. “I tried to tell you that day with Raza. What you saw today was my real father.”

“No! I don’t believe you. He was mean and cruel and—”

“That’s the man he’s always been. I’ve watched you since we were young, trying to make him acknowledge you as a daughter.” Cleon hung his head. “When he swore me and Raza to secrecy about you not being his child, I felt a certain smugness, probably some stupid sibling rivalry, because he said he could never love a child not his own. I’m sorry. I’ve always known your love for every one of us had no such conditions.”

It had been one thing to listen to Raza’s outburst before his death, but she never believed the picture he’d painted of Father. In her mind, anything could be fixed. Reality didn’t agree. “I thought if I just explained—”

“Nothing you could say to him would help. I often thought he was only nice as a gesture for Mother’s sake. The man I saw today, that’s who he is.”

Selah slumped against the desk, dazed. It can’t be fixed. She’d seen him and pleaded with him, and his countenance had never changed. “What happened to Mother and Dane?”

“I don’t know, but I think I made a mistake bringing us here. There’s just something I didn’t like about the way Jax looked at us.”

“I was too numb to concentrate on his—”

The door to the outer office slid open.

Selah snatched up the pulse rifle and turned. Two guards rushed in to take up positions on either side of the door. Bethany strolled into the room. Cleon grabbed the weapon from Selah and aimed.

Bethany raised a hand. “Don’t bother, I had the pulse deactivated by remote as soon as you left my building.”

Cleon pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He hit the charger and pulled on the trigger again. Nothing. He raised it by the barrel as a club.

Bethany shook her head as she motioned a guard to retrieve the weapon. “Turn it over. I’m sure Pasha and Dane will thank you.”

Selah gasped. Where were they holding her mother and little brother? She had to get them someplace safe.

Cleon slowly lowered the weapon and handed it over. His shoulders slumped.

“Check them for other weapons.” Bethany walked toward the outer room.

Selah stood for the search, noting Bethany’s change in attitude. She hoped Treva had hidden the files she carried rather than trust Bethany.

Jax rushed over to Bethany. “I hope you’ll continue to consider me for this position, especially after I’ve proven to be of additional value to you.”

“I do believe you’re correct. Telling me of Charles Ganston’s original treachery was not worthy of such a lofty position as head of Historical Archaeology, but this new information does give you a boost beyond the threshold I desire of my candidates.” Bethany continued out the front door. “Our decision will be finalized when Ganston dies.”