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Hatch

Page 10

by Kenneth Oppel

“It was just the once,” Petra lied. “Last night.”

  “And whether L9 might have transmitted any information.”

  “No, she didn’t!”

  “We have no way of knowing, of course, how trustworthy this cryptogen informant is. Or if it’s a living cryptogen at all. It might be some kind of AI designed to send us misinformation and propaganda. To make us think there are sympathetic factions within the enemy ranks. To make us hold our fire and confuse us on the battlefield when the time comes.”

  “Well,” said Petra, deluged by all these possibilities, “okay, and that’s why I told you, so you guys could decide what was best.”

  “You did absolutely the right thing,” Paul said.

  Ritter splayed his hands on the table, as if admiring the sheer size of them, then lifted his gaze to her. “And what about your own communications?”

  She looked back at him, confused. “Um, I haven’t had any. I haven’t even been outside, so how—”

  “I mean your own telepathic communications with the other hybrids.”

  She couldn’t stop the blaze of heat in her cheeks, blaring her guilt.

  “What do you mean?” she said, knowing how unconvincing she must sound.

  “Oh, it was quite obvious. We have very sensitive equipment, and we’ve been picking up lots of radio activity from the cafeteria and gymnasium and dorm areas. I can’t say it comes as much of a surprise. Those radio organs in your brains seem designed for all sorts of communication. How many of you have been using telepathy?”

  There was no point lying now. “Three of us, maybe more, I’m not sure.”

  “You and who else?”

  “Anaya and Seth.”

  “L9 and A4.”

  Hearing him turn her friends into numbers gave her a chill.

  “No one came forward sooner to tell me. Why is that?”

  Paul interjected before she could splutter out an excuse.

  “I think Petra’s shown considerable bravery coming forward. She’s given us lots of valuable information.”

  “No question, no question,” said Ritter. “I’m very pleased. Still, it does make me wonder what else you might be withholding.”

  “Nothing!” Petra said indignantly. She’d come here with the best intentions, knowing her friends would probably be pissed at her, and now Ritter was treating her like an enemy spy. She took a breath, reminded herself that getting angry would not help her cause.

  “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she said.

  Tears blurred her eyes without her even trying. She’d come wanting to make things better for all of them. And now she feared she’d just made things much, much worse.

  Chapter Nine

  WHEN ANAYA RETURNED TO the cafeteria after morning workouts, the place had been decorated with balloons and streamers. Across the back wall was a big banner that proclaimed: HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!

  “This is weird, right?” Petra said beside her.

  “I would say yes.”

  Anaya would’ve been less surprised if all the chairs were upside down on the ceiling.

  Bowls of chips and cheese puffs were set out with paper napkins and noisemakers. There were bottles of soft drinks as well as an enormous punch bowl glowing with some radioactive-looking orange fluid.

  “This can’t have been Ritter’s idea,” she said.

  “Paul’s?” suggested Petra.

  Or maybe a committee of White Coats who thought it would be good for prisoner morale. Something sparkly to cheer them up, make them feel like real kids turning sixteen at a fun underground party. Anaya wasn’t sure if the whole idea was kind or cruel.

  “It’s like a party for five-year-olds,” Petra said.

  “But without chaperones,” Darren remarked. And he was right. No guards. No White Coats. They’d been left to have the party on their own.

  All the kids gravitated toward a table in the middle of the room where there was an enormous slab cake. Whoever had done the icing was not skilled. HAPPY BIRTHDAY was written in thick, wobbly pink letters. The cake had been precut into squares, and beside it was a stack of paper plates and plastic forks.

  “Look, it’s even gluten-free,” Charles said, pointing to the little handwritten sign.

  “Whoever has the first bite of this thing is one brave dude,” said Siena.

  “You think it’s poisoned?” asked Vincent.

  “No. Just gross,” Siena said. “Way too much icing.”

  “Are you kidding? I love icing,” said Vincent. “Gimme a piece of that!”

  The weird thing was, the party did seem to make people relax. As kids munched on nibbles and shoved cake into their mouths and hesitantly sipped the punch, Anaya heard more laughter than she had in days. Adam and Nia and a group of other kids launched into a version of “Happy Birthday” that culminated with:

  Happy birthday, dear freaksters!

  Happy birthday to youuuuuuuuuuu!

  Whoever had organized the party must have left behind some music that wasn’t a million years old, because a kid put on an album that Anaya actually recognized. When it got turned up loud, a few kids started dancing, and Anaya felt pulled by the thumping bass.

  She’d always loved dancing, though mostly she danced alone in her room, with her headphones on, sometimes on the bed for extra bounce. Now she was in a brightly lit cafeteria with lots of virtual strangers, all of them as weird as her. She had nothing to lose. She stomped, her arms pumped, her shoulders rolled, she whipped her hair around. It felt fantastic.

  “You are a crazy messy dancer,” Petra said with a grin, joining in.

  “I’m a messy person!”

  Which was true, and she didn’t care. She liked the song and wanted to be filled up with something that wasn’t dread.

  “Just don’t gore me with your claws,” Petra said, laughing.

  Anaya smiled as her friend started matching her crazed moves with genuine enthusiasm. Charles and Darren joined the dance mess, too. A little ways off Seth and Esta bounced to the music. Swinging tails, furry arms and furry faces, wings, claws, patterned skin. There had never been a weirder sweet sixteen party.

  When the music was suddenly turned down, Anaya looked over to see Ritter standing by the turntable. She came to a standstill, instantly chilled by his presence.

  “I hope you’re enjoying your birthday festivities,” he said chewily, and attempted a smile that didn’t go well. “And I’m sorry to interrupt. This won’t take long, though I think I have some news you’ll like. Consider it a birthday present.”

  Anaya glanced warily at Petra.

  “We know how upsetting these changes to your bodies are,” Dr. Ritter went on. “Which is why I’ve decided to start a protocol to return you to normal.”

  Normal.

  Anaya saw how everyone in the room turned their faces to that word as if it were a glorious sunrise after an endless night.

  “The procedures will be simple and safe,” he said now. “With the L group we’ll be filing back fingernails and toenails. We’ll also be using lasers to remove excess body hair and prevent future growth.”

  A cheer went up from the runners, and Anaya felt her own spirits lift. Finally! She wanted the hair off her face so badly, but every time she’d asked a White Coat for a razor, she’d been turned down. They kept saying they wanted to view and assess all her natural traits. Hair, claws, the works. They wanted to see what she was going to become.

  And now, suddenly, this new direction.

  “What’s changed?” she whispered to Petra.

  “For the W’s,” Ritter was saying, “we’ll also be using lasers to see if the patterning on your skin can be safely removed. More important, we will remove tails.”

  More cheers rose around the cafeteria, none louder than the “Yes!” Petra shouted as she pumped her fist triumphantly into the air.

  Anaya couldn’t help smiling at her friend’s delight, but she caught the disdainful look Esta slid Petra’s way. There was probably no h
ope these two would ever be friends.

  “Since this procedure requires surgery,” Ritter continued, “we’ll be looking for volunteers.”

  Again, Petra shot her hand up, like a schoolkid dying to be chosen. Judging by the number of raised hands, Anaya figured every single swimmer was volunteering. Except Darren, whose forehead was furrowed with confusion.

  “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why would they do this?”

  “I don’t know,” Anaya replied, “but I don’t think they want us as soldiers, Darren.”

  She saw Ritter take in all the swimmers’ raised hands with a little nod. “It’s helpful to know the level of interest,” he said matter-of-factly. “However, the selection will be made randomly. And some of you will remain controls, which means you will continue to develop without interference.”

  Anaya heard Petra release a disappointed sigh as she dropped her hand. “No fair.”

  “Okay, I get it now,” Darren said with a relieved grin. “He’s weeding out the weak ones. He’s keeping the best to be soldiers.” He winked at Petra. “We’ll make the cut, no problem.”

  Anaya rolled her eyes and was about to say something, but Ritter was talking again.

  “And with the A’s, we’ll be removing feathers.”

  Her eyes flew to Seth. His reaction couldn’t have been more different from Petra’s. His whole body stiffened, like he’d stopped breathing. Revolt blazed from his eyes, which, right now, were locked with Esta’s.

  “This procedure is somewhat more complicated,” Ritter carried on, “so how many of you are interested?”

  Anaya’s uneasiness contracted into a terrible fear.

  —Put up your hand, she told Seth silently.

  —No, came his terse reply.

  —It’s a test!

  Across the room, she saw Siena raise her hand and then, more reluctantly, Vincent. Seth and Esta were the only other two flyers in the bunker. Anaya watched Ritter’s gaze slide across the room toward them.

  —Seth! she said urgently. Do it.

  He didn’t. Neither did Esta. Anaya could tell Ritter was looking straight at their blue jumpsuits. And what was he thinking? That the two of them preferred being hybrids? That they’d abandoned their human loyalties?

  Anaya had an uncomfortable flash memory of the winged cryptogens decimating cities, killing the runners and swimmers. She looked at Esta and Seth, wondering if they could be capable of such a thing—and hated herself for it.

  “It won’t change us inside, though,” she said, wanting to distract Ritter. Heads turned her way across the cafeteria. “I mean, my claws might grow back, and I’ll still be able to jump high and run really fast, won’t I?”

  Ritter’s gaze strayed lazily over to her. “This remains to be seen.”

  —What’re you doing? Petra hissed silently in her head. Shut up!

  “Regardless,” Ritter continued, “my medical teams are investigating a possible treatment that will prevent any further changes to your bodies. If they’re successful, you would return to normal in every sense of the word.”

  “How?” Charles asked. He was, for sure, one of those kids who were never afraid to ask questions in class. “How will that work?” With his facial hair filled in, he looked even more like a nervous meerkat now.

  “As our research progresses, I will keep you up-to-date,” Ritter said. “Our hope has always been that, when this is all over, you’ll return to your lives, and your homes and your families.”

  Even as Anaya doubted his words, the promise of it was so wonderful that she felt a hot tingle behind her eyes. She swallowed. Mom and Dad. Salt Spring Island.

  “Enjoy your party,” Ritter said, and left the cafeteria.

  Anaya didn’t feel like dancing anymore, even when the music started up again. She found a quiet table and sat down. Petra, Darren, and Charles joined her, and even Seth and Esta came over.

  “See?” Petra said to Seth. “You said they’d never let us out of here.”

  Seth made no reply, and Anaya could see the confusion and wariness etched into his face.

  “Why’s he talking about this being all over?” Charles asked. “Does he know something?”

  “They’re not taking my wings,” said Seth.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Petra said to him. “He’s giving us a chance to be normal again.”

  “I don’t buy it,” said Anaya. “We’re half cryptogen. How can they change all the DNA in our body?”

  She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be normal. Lose the facial hair, definitely. But the strength and speed? No way. She could tell Seth felt the same. Wings, he’d called them. Not feathers, but wings. She’d always known how fiercely protective, and proud, he was of his feathers, but calling them wings was something new.

  “I agree with you,” Charles said to her. “Clipping our toenails isn’t going to change us.”

  “He said they’re working on it,” Petra retorted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys were all brilliant scientists. I say leave it to the experts. They’re trying to help us.”

  Esta shot Petra a withering look. “You are so naive.”

  Anaya could hear Petra’s tail thwack out an angry beat against the chair leg.

  “They’re not trying to help us, Petra,” said Seth. “They’re scared of how strong we’re getting.” He nodded at Charles. “I saw you guys in the gym today. You can punch through sheet metal with your claws. And we’re getting more feathers, on our legs.”

  “What?” Anaya said. “Since when?”

  “I just noticed mine today. Esta’s are further along.”

  Anaya had grown up with a pilot mother and knew what this meant. “You’ll have more lift and be able to steer better.”

  Maybe they really would fly. The idea was mind-blowing. She thought of all Seth’s sketches over the years, the creatures he hoped he might one day become.

  “But this is my point,” Darren said. “We’re getting more powerful. Which makes us even more valuable as soldiers. They don’t want to lose that.”

  “Are you delusional?” Seth said.

  Anaya felt exactly the same way, but she wouldn’t have said it aloud. The surprise on Darren’s face was quickly replaced with a menacing grin.

  His tail lifted a few inches above the table. It swayed from side to side, cobra-like.

  “You want to put that away,” Seth said.

  “What?” Darren looked around in genuine surprise to behold his tail.

  Anaya leaned closer, squinting. “Did it always have that sharp bit at the end?”

  Darren brought the tip closer to his face. “Well, look at that,” he said, sounding pleased.

  “Oh my God,” mumbled Petra, looking queasy. “Is that a stinger?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” Darren said. “About time we got a weapon of our own. If it’s a stinger, that means venom.”

  “This is why I want my tail off,” said Petra.

  “Nah. This is why we’re so valuable,” Darren said, looking at Seth. “Maybe you don’t want to fight for your country. But I do. That’s why I didn’t put my hand up. It was a test.”

  “Yeah, it was a test,” Anaya said, “but not for that. Ritter wanted to see who didn’t want to be normal.”

  “Oh, right, because that automatically makes us dangerous?” Esta said.

  “Should’ve put your hand up,” Petra said angrily to Seth. “Ritter’s going to be suspicious now.”

  “Yeah,” said Esta, “we might want to help the flyer cryptogens take over the planet, and put all you little runners and swimmers into work camps.”

  Anaya swallowed, realizing that Seth must have told Esta everything.

  “What’re you talking about?” Charles asked, his eyes ricocheting between her and Esta.

  —Tell them.

  Anaya’s breath caught as Esta’s words materialized in her head. They flickered yellow and tasted electric, like aluminum foil in her mouth.

  “Tell them,�
� Esta said, aloud this time. “About that little home movie the cryptogens sent you.” Sarcastically, she added, “Shouldn’t they all know the danger they’re in?”

  Charles and Darren both stared at her. Anaya truly regretted keeping secrets from them. She’d tried to do the right thing, but it wasn’t right, withholding information that affected every one of them.

  As simply as possible, she described what the cryptogen had planted in her head.

  Darren looked at Petra. “You knew about this? And you never told me?”

  “I can keep a secret,” said Charles, sounding hurt, “but this shouldn’t be a secret.”

  “We’ve got to tell Ritter,” Darren said.

  “No, we do not,” Seth said.

  Charles said, “This is pretty vital intel. I mean, who knows if it’s true, but if it is, it could change the whole outcome of the war. Anaya, you see that, right?”

  “He’ll put us in a cage,” said Seth.

  Anaya felt torn. She wanted to protect Seth, but she didn’t want to cripple humanity’s chances of winning the war. She glanced over at Petra, who had gone very quiet and was staring hard at the table.

  “We can’t hide this from them,” Darren said. “It’s obvious.”

  “They already know,” Petra said. “I told them.”

  Anaya looked at her friend in disbelief. “Petra! We said we wouldn’t.”

  “Hey, Seth’s already told his pal Esta, and who knows who else.” Anaya knew Petra well enough to see the guilt behind her friend’s defiance. “Ritter needed to know, so I did it.”

  “When?” Seth demanded, his voice hoarse.

  “This morning.”

  “What else did you tell him?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t need to. He knew everything else. Everything.”

  “Our telepathy?” Anaya said with a jolt.

  “Yep.”

  “We have telepathy?” Charles said, his eyeballs pinballing from person to person.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Anaya said.

  Darren paddled his hands against the table. “Woo-hoo, we are really rolling now!”

  “This new plan of Ritter’s,” Seth said, “it’s because he’s worried we’re plotting something. He’s going to clamp down hard.”

 

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