by Mark Frost
“Thanks,” said Will. “May I think about that and let you know?”
“Of course.”
He didn’t want to tell her the truth then and there: He had no living relatives that he knew about on either side of the family. Nor did his parents have any friends that he was aware of. In fact, the only friends he’d known in his own life were the ones who lived upstairs in pod G4-3.
They got off the elevator. Knots of students were grouped in the atrium whispering to each other, with a partial attempt at discretion, as Will passed.
The story had made the rounds already. He wasn’t just the “new kid” anymore.
A security guard waited outside the door to their suite—Tika, Eloni’s other cousin. She opened the door as they approached.
“She’s not here to keep you locked up, Will,” Robbins whispered. “Just to make sure you’re okay. Call me, immediately, if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Will walked into the great room. Brooke sat at the dining table next to Nick, who was in a wheelchair with his right leg elevated. She jumped to her feet when Will came in. Elise rose from the sofa, and Ajay popped out of his room.
Brooke got to him first and hugged him as hard as she could. She tried to keep from crying and failed miserably, while everyone else bunched around him. Even Elise brushed away a tear when she got her chance to hug him.
“Damn it, bro,” said Nick. “Damn, I’m so damn sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
Will had to squat on an arm of the wheelchair to hug Nick, and Nick nearly broke Will’s ribs. The girls made hot chocolate. Ajay got a fire going and they gathered around it, even Nick, who climbed out of his chair and limped down onto the sofa.
Brooke started to explain that she’d been walking back from the library when two masked figures had come out of the woods. Will saw the trauma carving lines on her face and took her hand.
“We know the rest,” he said. “Don’t go back there.”
Brooke seemed grateful. “Were your parents really on that plane?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” said Will. “They were a few days ago. We’ll have to wait and see. Did they ever find Todd?”
“Not yet,” said Ajay.
“They nabbed six Knights at the Barn, three at the boathouse,” said Elise. “And Lyle.”
“That leaves three of the thirteen Knights still unaccounted for,” said Ajay. “Including Todd. Nick thinks you’re right. Todd must’ve been the Paladin at the Barn.”
“Any word on Lyle?” Will asked Ajay.
“I talked to a friend at the med center,” said Ajay. “He says Lyle is one hundred percent non compos.”
“Whoa, he’s not even on campus anymore?” asked Nick.
“Non compos mentis,” said Elise. “Look it up.”
“It means he’s fried his motherboard,” said Ajay. “Blown his circuit breakers. Catatonic and nonresponsive. A condition most often associated with a devastating and perhaps irreversible nervous breakdown.”
Will thought back to the cave, when he’d seen Lyle’s face inside the wendigo’s rib cage. What had that thing taken from him? How much of Lyle was left?
“Well, pardon me while I break out the world’s smallest violin and play a really sad song,” said Nick.
“He’s still a person, Nick,” said Elise.
“Or was,” said Ajay. “At least sort of.”
“He was a little kid once, like us,” said Brooke. “With people who cared about him.”
“I was told Lyle’s parents are flying in as well,” said Ajay.
“There, see?” said Elise. “He has parents.”
The word appeared to bring Nick back to the weight of Will’s loss. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
#79: DON’T MAKE ANOTHER’S PAIN THE SOURCE OF YOUR OWN HAPPINESS.
“Lyle got messed up by a nasty from the Never-Was that he brought over in the caves,” said Will, filling them in about the wendigo. “Lyle told me the Caps made him put a Ride Along in his own neck. I cut it off him. He hated me, he hated all of us, but I don’t think he would have tried to kill me if they hadn’t made him do it.”
No one said anything for a moment.
“Lyle also told me that the Bald Man is in charge,” Will said. “His name is Mr. Hobbes. Hobbes and the Caps tried to grab me at the airport in Madison.”
“What?!” said Nick.
“Good God, Will,” said Ajay.
“Another thing: He’s not exactly human,” said Will. “He’s not completely from the Never-Was, either. He seems like he’s … some kind of hybrid.”
“How do you know?” asked Elise.
Will held up his dark glasses.
“That’s it,” said Nick. “I’m getting a pair of those.”
“Did you tell the cops what he’s done to you and your family?” asked Brooke.
“No. He’s got heavyweight connections and I don’t know who we can trust yet. But Rourke definitely did not know this guy. That’s a good sign. Now I need to catch up on something. Nick: What the hell happened at the Barn?”
“Dude, the Big Paladin Statue Dude started chasing me,” said Nick. “I think they must’ve slapped one of those Ride Alongs on it.”
“And this was just before you were attacked by the grizzly bear and the giant squid,” said Ajay dryly.
“Dude, I told you—I wasn’t attacked by them. They were defending me. Against the statue.”
Will put his hand on Nick to calm him. “I have no idea why, Nick,” he said, “but I believe you.”
“Thanks, man.”
Everyone fell into a sober moment of silence. Brooke took Will’s hand.
“So, is it over, Will?” she asked. “Are you safe now?”
“I’m not sure,” said Will. “We know that Lyle ran the Knights, and Mr. Hobbes was running Lyle.”
“And Hobbes gave the order to kill you,” said Elise. “That’s why they staged this whole thing.”
“Except,” said Will. “Except that Lyle had a Ride Along at the boathouse that he was going to hit me with. So maybe the order changed and they decided they’d rather control me than kill me.”
“Why would it change?” asked Brooke.
“Lyle said they were afraid of me.”
“Afraid of you?” asked Ajay. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Will, stirring the fire. “But I expect the school’s going to tell us the Knights of Charlemagne are finished now. A sickness, like an outbreak of measles they’ve stamped out. And they have two perfect fall guys: Lyle and Todd.”
“But they are guilty,” said Ajay.
“Up to a point,” said Will. “I think Lyle realized he’d become a scapegoat, expendable in some way, and that lets the Center nail a lid on this whole rotten barrel. The other Knights will be expelled and face criminal charges. Todd’s still missing, and I don’t think they’ll find him. And Lyle probably spends the rest of his life drooling into a tube.”
“You almost sound like you feel sorry for him,” said Ajay.
“I do,” said Will. “He’s as much a victim as anybody, maybe even more so. The point is, all of this lets the school send a message to their students’ families that they’ve weeded out the bad apples and everything’s under control.”
Elise, watching Will closely, asked, “Is that what the school really thinks?”
“I hope so,” said Will. “That’s exactly what we should want them to think. And for our sake, we’d better hope it’s true.”
“Why?” asked Ajay.
“Because if it isn’t, it means the Knights of Charlemagne have been in business all along, ever since they were supposedly disbanded back in 1941. It means they still are, and that powerful alumni, possibly some parents and even teachers, have been mixed up in this all along—”
“Dude, you’re scaring the crap out of me,” said Nick. “I’m serious. I literally have no crap right now.”
“—working on a secret plan they call the Paladin Prophe
cy,” said Will, looking at each of them. “I figured out how it all fits together after Lyle said some things to me today. None of you are going to like it.”
Ajay’s eyes grew bigger and rounder than a bush baby’s. “I have a feeling this may require a beverage more fortifying than cocoa.”
Will stood up and walked around. “Why did they put us all together in this pod? Think about it for a second. What do we have in common?”
The others looked at each other, all thinking.
“We’re scholarship students,” said Ajay. “Our families aren’t wealthy.”
“That describes four of us,” said Elise. “But not Brooke.”
“We’re all incredibly good-looking,” said Nick. “Except Ajay.”
“Don’t get me started, birdbrain,” said Ajay.
“Something else,” said Will.
“We’re the same age,” said Brooke. “We’re all fifteen.”
“Correct,” said Will. “Good. Keep going.”
“We all appear to have rather … unusual abilities,” said Ajay.
“Really?” asked Nick. “What can you do?”
Ajay glanced at Will, who encouraged him to answer. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but I possess extraordinary eyesight and a photographic memory.”
“That’s awesome. Dude, you are so helping me with my homework.”
“What about you, Brooke? Any unusual abilities?” asked Ajay.
“Like what?”
Ajay pointed at Will, Nick, himself, and then Elise. “Stamina, agility, memory, sonic booms, that sort of thing.”
“None that I’m aware of,” said Brooke, disappointed. “I’m feeling completely left out.”
“Don’t worry,” said Will. “They can activate at different times. We know that Lyle had powers, too, but we don’t know when they started. For us they came on gradually over time.”
“Except my sonic thing hit just yesterday,” said Elise. “Boom.”
“Yeah, don’t bum about it, Brooke,” said Nick, sincerely trying to help. “Tomorrow you could wake up and be able to eat a hundred hot dogs or something.”
“The woman of your dreams,” said Elise.
Will brought them back on task. “Something else we have in common: None of us have brothers or sisters. Including Ronnie and Lyle. All of us are only children.”
“Is that really so unusual?” asked Ajay. “American families have been trending smaller in recent decades. In fact, demographics from all of the industrialized Western societies suggest that the rate of birth—”
Elise rapped his knuckles. “Ajay: It’s unusual. Keep going, Will.”
“How did we get to the Center?” asked Will, still pacing. “What brought us here?”
“Test scores,” said Ajay. “At our old schools.”
“Tests given to us and every other kid in the country,” said Will. “By an organization called the National Scholastic Evaluation Agency. Sounds harmless and neutral, right? Vaguely governmental.”
“So why is that a concern?” asked Brooke.
“It’s not a government agency, although it has some kind of federal affiliation,” said Will. “The NSEA is a private company, owned by the Greenwood Foundation. The same Greenwood Foundation that owns and operates the Center.”
The others exchanged worried looks.
“That’s more than a little unsettling,” said Ajay.
“So the NSEA conducts evaluation tests,” said Elise, thinking it through. “Trying to identify the best and brightest students in the country. And the Center invites them to come here. I don’t necessarily see anything sinister.”
“And my friend Nando saw Black Caps at their LA office,” said Will.
“Oh, dear,” said Brooke.
“Where were you born, Nick?” asked Will.
“Boston.”
“Elise?”
“Seattle.”
“Ajay?”
“In Atlanta, although my parents lived in Raleigh at the time. Something to do with where our obstetrician worked, I believe.”
“Dallas,” said Brooke.
“Lyle was born in Boston,” said Will. “What about Ronnie?”
“Chicago,” said Elise.
“The NSEA has six offices,” said Will. “All in federal buildings around the country: Boston, Seattle, Atlanta, Dallas, Los Angeles, and Chicago.”
“All big cities,” said Ajay. “That could easily be a coincidence.”
“Where were you born, Will?” asked Elise.
“Albuquerque, New Mexico,” said Will. “That’s what my parents told me.”
“Albuquerque’s not on the list,” said Nick.
“Just because they told me that doesn’t mean it’s true,” said Will. “Ajay, would you mind pulling up Ronnie’s video? I want your isolated image of that silver box. This part came to me in a dream I had this morning. A dream about an egg.”
On his tablet, Ajay quickly retrieved an image of the metallic case with THE PALADIN PROPHECY engraved on its cover above the Roman numerals.
“Look at the Roman numerals,” said Will. “I think this means that the Prophecy started in 1990. Lyle told me that if I wanted to know about the Prophecy, I needed to start with the clinics.”
“What kind of clinics?” asked Elise.
“Look at the second number,” said Will, pointing to the IV after the numbers for 1990.
“Roman numeral four,” said Nick.
“But we were wrong about that,” said Will. “There’s no line across the top or bottom like the other figures. It’s not the number 4 because this isn’t a numeral. These are the letters IV.”
“Okay, so what?” asked Nick.
“It’s a common abbreviation,” said Will. “Used in medicine.”
“Intravenous?” asked Brooke.
“In vitro,” said Will.
“Which means ‘in the glass,’ or test tube,” said Ajay, accessing his prodigious memory. “A medical procedure often conducted in fertility clinics to help couples who can’t get pregnant. Couples who often end up with only one child. A procedure that entered the medical mainstream about 1990.”
No one spoke. A log popped loudly in the fire and everyone jumped.
“Dude … what does this have to do with an egg?” asked Nick.
“You’re not seriously suggesting we might all have been …,” said Brooke.
“I am so way beyond grossed out,” said Elise, frozen.
“Lyle said we were all the Prophecy,” said Will.
“Okay, I have no idea what we’re talking about,” said Nick.
“In vitro fertilization,” said Ajay impatiently. “Wherein an egg is extracted from a woman’s ovaries and fertilized by sperm from her spouse or a donor. Two or three days later, after replicating into a zygote of six to eight cells, the growing embryo is reintroduced to the woman’s womb. Leading, in approximately thirty-five percent of cases, to successful pregnancy. In vitro fertilization.”
“If Will’s right,” said Elise, explaining softly to Nick, “it means we’re test-tube babies.”
Nick’s face scrunched up. “Eww,” he said.
“And maybe more than that,” said Will. “Lyle said one other thing. Four letters: ATCG. Do any of you know what that means?”
“Adenine. Cytosine. Guanine. Thymine,” said Ajay. “The four basic nucleotides, the building blocks of DNA.”
“Genetic—in vitro—manipulation,” said Elise, turning pale.
Ajay fell back into the cushions. Nick fanned himself with a pillow.
“Special abilities,” said Brooke.
“I think it happened secretly,” said Will. “Your parents probably weren’t aware of it, although I think mine may have been. Whoever was in charge tracked us over time, then used these ‘random’ tests to see if whatever changes they’d manipulated were … awake. Then they brought us here.”
“We’re the Paladins,” whispered Ajay, looking stunned.
“I know how crazy this sounds,�
� said Will, pacing again. “I’m not claiming it’s true; I’m just laying it out there. A theory, that’s all. A theory I’m more than happy to see disproved. And if it isn’t true—if it’s completely, totally insane—it won’t take long to find out.”
“So where did this all start?” asked Brooke. “Who’s responsible for the Prophecy?”
“I don’t know where it started,” said Will. “The Caps, the Knights, and the Never-Was are involved somehow … but it sure seems to be ending up here.”
“But if they wanted you at the Center, why were the Caps trying to kill you?” asked Elise.
“I don’t know that either,” said Will. Unless it’s because, like Dave said, I’m an Initiate.
“So it seems the crucial question facing us now,” said Ajay, “is what, if anything, does the Center have to do with the Paladin Prophecy?”
“That sounds right,” said Will.
“But if it is true, what is it all for?” asked Brooke emotionally. “Why would they do something this twisted to anybody?”
Will took her hand. “We’re going to find that out,” he said simply. “All of us.”
“How many of … ‘us’ are we?” asked Elise.
“For now, the five of us in this room,” said Will.
“How can we verify that this genetic theory is true?” asked Ajay.
“There’s one obvious place to start,” said Will. “Drop the idea into a conversation with your parents. See what they say, decide what you think.”
“Okay,” said Ajay, a little shaky, looking at the others.
“You can also, really quietly, ask Dr. Kujawa to run tests on you,” said Will. “He was amazed by what he found with me and told me the truth about it. Maybe he finds something that helps us rule this out. Either way, it can’t hurt to check.”
“Word,” said Nick.
“Ajay, there’s something else you can do,” said Will. “First thing tomorrow, grab a note from a teacher for the Rare Book Archive. Read everything you can find about the Knights of Charlemagne, the Crag, and how they picked the school mascot before anyone has a chance to get rid of it.”
“Dude, build a spy camera,” said Nick.