Identity

by E. J. Mara

  His gaze still on Karen, Dr. Lyles takes Esther’s hand, and in a split second the two of them disappear.

  I glance at Karen. Her face falls as she turns to me. “I should have said it.”

  I couldn’t agree more, but I plant a kiss her on her cheek and push the negativity from my thoughts. “You didn’t have to, he knows.”

  “See you in forty-five minutes, an hour at the most,” Ms. Greenich says, and we turn our attention to her. Before we can say goodbye, she’s pressed a button on the Blackbird and vanished.

  Karen takes a deep breath. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “It’s going to work,” I say, hoping I sound more confident than I feel.

  “WE’RE IN.” ESTHER’S voice, garbled by static, is emitted from a speaker in Iris’s console.

  I glance at Karen. She stands over the speaker with her palms on the console and her face paler than I’ve ever seen.

  “The holding room is empty, but it was definitely occupied,” Esther continues. “There’s an empty IV, and the shackles that would’ve held the test subject look like they’ve been burned.”

  In the background, Dr. Lyles says something, but his voice is too muddled by static and background noise for me to make out the words.

  “I’m in.” Ms. Greenich’s voice comes from the other speaker on Iris’s console.

  “No sign of Tessa yet, but your dad thinks he knows where we can find her,” Esther says.

  On top of Esther’s updates, a loud, roaring sounds from Ms. Greenich’s mic.

  “What the heck is that?” Karen whispers.

  “It sounds like a garage door opening,” I say, “so maybe that’s what it is, a door.” I don’t point out that it also sounds like the roar of some kind of mutant-hybrid monster creature that I.T.I.S. very well could have made.

  “They’ve added way too much security to this comm room,” we hear Ms. Greenich mumble over the sound of loud footsteps.

  “We’re heading upstairs and …” Esther’s voice cuts out and Karen stares at the speaker expectantly. But Esther’s speaker remains silent, while footsteps continue to emerge from Ms. Greenich’s.

  “I wonder what happened to Esther,” Karen’s voice shakes.

  “Maybe she just couldn’t talk, maybe she had to go,” I suggest.

  “My name is Nancy Greenich,” Ms. Greenich says, “and I’m interrupting this taped I.T.I.S. message to tell you the truth about The International Team of Investigatory Science. You deserve to know what I.T.I.S. really is. They say they’re here to help us by curing diseases through cutting-edge technology and that’s a lie. I.T.I.S. has a singular goal, to kill …”

  Ms. Greenich’s words are drowned out by a loud siren and Karen turns to me, panic in her eyes. “That must be an alarm. I.T.I.S. knows they’re in there! We’ve got to help them.”

  “How?” I ask, my mouth going dry.

  Karen looks down at her ring and then back up at the view screen, determination in her eyes. “We fight.” Before I can protest, she plants herself in Iris’s pilot seat and says, “Iris, Auto Pilot, go to the roof of I.T.I.S. headquarters.”

  “Karen, no!” I panic. I know she’s brave, but she can’t be serious right now. “We can’t just burst in there and …”

  “And save their lives? Look, see this?” She points to her ring. Sunlight shines through Iris’s view-screen and bounces off the ring, throwing a blinding glare in my eyes. “What about it?” I move away from the glare.

  As Iris acknowledges Karen’s request, the sunbeam shifts to Karen’s eyes, and they sparkle like gold while she explains, “It’s not just a ring, it’s a weapon. Ms. Greenich told me it’s laced with something called chiatum, which can kill the strongest mutant or whatever you call the people they’ve got in this place. I could be in there helping instead of sitting here.”

  Iris begins her ascent and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. As the ship shoots into the air, I trip over my feet and quickly grab the armrest of a nearby seat, righting myself. I slide into the black leather co-pilot seat, fear sitting in my gut like a dead weight. I take a steadying deep breath.

  We shuttle forward and a small island appears in the distance, its tall buildings standing out among the surrounding swampland. The sight sends my fear into overdrive.

  “Since your ankle’s messed up,” Karen quietly says, “you should stay with Iris.”

  “Are you kidding?” I turn to her. “Karen, you’re not going in there alone. I’m going with you.”

  “You can hardly walk.” She glances at me. “Just stay and I’ll be back, I promise …please, Nathaniel.”

  I stare at her as Iris slows and announces that we’ll be landing in approximately sixty seconds. What scares me even more than sneaking into I.T.I.S. with Karen is not sneaking into I.T.I.S. with Karen. If I’m sitting here like a coward, how am I supposed to protect her? That’s why I came with her in the first place, to protect her!

  “I should’ve never called you that. You’re not a coward.” Shaking her head, Karen bites down on her bottom lip and says, “I’d just …I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you. You’ve already sacrificed enough for me and my family. Please, stay.”

  Her thoughts dart to my mom and a sick feeling fills my stomach as I say, “I don’t like this.”

  “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s the wrong decision.” She returns her attention to the view screen.

  It doesn’t take a mind reader to see that her decision’s made. But her decision isn’t my decision. “Karen-”

  She shakes her head and speaks without looking at me, “If you try to come with me, I’ll find a way to knock you out and drag you back into the ship, which will only slow me down. No, Nathaniel. I’m not losing you too.”

  “Jesus ...” I mutter.

  Iris announces our arrival, and as we descend onto the roof of I.T.I.S.’s headquarters, dread twists at my gut. I glance at Karen. A part of me knows she’s right, my foot is getting worse and I would slow her down. But, what if she goes in there alone and this is the last time I see her?

  Iris’s door shuts behind me, emitting a sound that resembles a vacuum being shut off. The ship is still invisible, so instead of seeing it, I’m looking into a parking lot full of black I.T.I.S. cars and vans. Beyond the roof’s parking lot is a backdrop of mossy tree-tops over which egret’s fly, some of them carrying food in their beaks. The Louisiana air is so muggy that after only seconds of leaving Iris’s air conditioning, I’m sweating.

  The rooftop is huge, at least three miles long, and we’re parked at the very end of what looks like a runway. A group of hangers for helicopters and small planes are stationed to my right, while an entrance to a stairwell sits at my left.

  I brush my thumb over the stone of Mom’s ring and turn my attention to the stairwell. Am I doing the right thing? A few minutes ago I was sure, but now I don’t know.

  … Karen, wait, I’m coming. My ankle’s not that bad, I’ll be right there…

  I turn around, surprised by Nathaniel’s thoughts in my head. We’re pretty far from each other; I didn’t realize we could access each other’s thoughts from this kind of distance. ‘… No, I’m fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes …’

  I wipe a thin film of sweat from my brow, reach forward, and ease the stairwell door open. Above me a bird squawks and sunlight trips on the stone of my ring, its light glinting and sparkling like fairy dust. I have Mom’s ring, I’ll be fine.

  I step inside.

  The alarm that we heard earlier must have stopped, because now all I hear are the light rumblings of a powerful air conditioner and fragments of nearby thoughts as they slip in and out of my mind. Everything else is silent.

  The stairwell is surprisingly pretty, its floor and stairs decked out in rich burgundy carpet and its walls painted ivory. I hurry down the stairs and the scent of Louisiana Alyssum grows increasingly stronger.

  I can’t help but think about how I’m t
raversing the very same stairs Dad must have taken at least a hundred times back when he worked here. Inadvertently slowing in stride, I glance at the railing and run the tips of my fingers along the polished metal, imagining Dad doing the same. I should have told him I’m sorry. Sighing, I quicken my pace, only to pause mid-step as the door to the fourth floor comes into view. It’s ajar and severely damaged, its small glass window smashed in and its doorknob dangling, useless.

  A wave of nerves wash over me, but I make myself go to the door and peer through its shredded window. There’s a reception area that, like the stairwell, is brightly lit and pleasantly decorated. Two potted plants sit on either side of an unmanned reception desk in front of a sturdy wooden door which looks like the entrance to a posh office.

  I step into the corridor, and as the broken door closes behind me, my breath leaves me, bile rising in my throat. Ms. Greenich is on the floor, her mask removed and her eyes open, but unseeing.

  Blood oozes from her forehead, mouth, and chest, seeping into the carpet. I take an unsteady step back, my knees shaking uncontrollably. This can’t be happening.

  But the longer I stare at Ms. Greenich, the more real it becomes. The blood dripping from her forehead is real, the death in her eyes, her opened palm, the Blackbird still in it, it’s real.

  Ms. Greenich is gone.

  My every move a stumble, I crouch beside her. Her hair is spattered with blood, and all I can do is stare at it, my jumbled thoughts reverting to Mom.

  When I found Mom, lying there with Tessa staring down at her in shock, it wasn’t like this. For some reason, I’d been too numb to feel anything other than confusion. But now, as I touch one of Ms. Greenich’s curls, my thoughts and memories are very much alive. Tears blind my vision.

  This isn’t right …this shouldn’t have happened. None of this should have happened.

  I smooth my palm over Ms. Greenich’s eyelids, gently closing her eyes.

  She was right, I.T.I.S. needs to be stopped. As soon as I find my sister, I’m going to release the bagradae. Destroying the main ingredient to their stupid serums will deal them a major blow, if not irreparable damage.

  Across from the broken stairwell entrance, an elevator chimes and the numbers above the elevator light up, indicating that someone is headed to this floor. Taking a shaky deep breath, I grab the Blackbird from Ms. Greenich’s palm and get to my feet.

  The elevator starts to open as I stumble backwards and press the small round button in the middle of the device, just like Ms. Greenich showed me earlier. The Blackbird grows surprisingly warm and then hot in my hand as ripples fill the air around me.

  My heart pounding, I watch the hallway, the elevator’s opening doors, and the entire room begin to swim under massive amounts of ripples. It’s like everything’s been submerged under a pool of water.

  The Blackbird expands, the top of the device extending and then splitting into two separate sections that wrap themselves around each of my wrists while the bottom half of the device does the same to my ankles.

  Two gun-toting men step out of the elevator just as my feet lift from the floor. I know they can’t see me because of the Blackbird’s cloaking feature, but I still panic.

  One of the men, his I.T.I.S. badge flapping on his collar as he jogs forward, stops at Ms. Greenich’s body and then eyes the stairwell. “We’ve looked everywhere, I’m thinking she was the only one.”

  The other agent nods in my direction. “What about in there? Shouldn’t we check?”

  “Nah. Only special clearance gets you in that lab.”

  I watch them return to the elevator, my only consolation that they have no idea Esther and Dad are here. The elevator doors slide closed and I turn to face the entrance to the room that one of the agents called a lab. Maybe Dad’s hiding in there …

  Hoping I don’t bash my brains out, I extend my arms in the direction of the door and pray that Ms. Greenich wasn’t joking when she said the Blackbird allows for travel through solid objects.

  I nearly scream as I’m zipped through the thick wooden door with a force so powerful it takes my breath away. Lowering my arms to my sides, I descend, my mouth falling open while I take in my surroundings.

  The lab’s high ceilings are supported by two walls that are stocked with what look like ... fetuses?! Though the babies are featureless balls of flesh with umbilical cords on their bellies, they’re huge, about the size of a toddler. Each child is contained in a glass compartment filled with an amber-colored liquid. Periodically, an electrical current stirs within the fetus and then shoots into the amber liquid.

  There are so many of them ...fetuses from ceiling to floor, there must be at least two or maybe even three hundred! Moving forward, I glance at the label on one of the containers and read:

  Project Novus- Test Subject 12273

  I touch the label, wondering what “Project Novus” is and what I.T.I.S. is planning to do with these babies. The whispered thoughts that are slipping in and out of mine pale to one that’s growing louder, meaning someone’s close. I hold still and listen …it’s on the roof, hanger two. There’s a helicopter we can take and if I can just get Tessa to safety …

  Tessa?! Whoever’s nearby is thinking about my sister!

  I lift my arms and fly in the direction of the thought.

  My heart pounding, I speed past a long wall of fetuses, round the corner and relief washes over me at the sight of Tessa.

  She wears a grimy hospital gown and her hair is all over her head, but she’s unhurt! Exhaling as a thousand tons of worry leave my shoulders, I lower my arms and descend.

  Tessa stands ramrod straight, her arms folded across her chest while she carefully studies a young woman with light blonde hair who’s …talking to her?

  …Hearing people and their ‘plans.’ They think, ‘if I plan it, surely it will work, it doesn’t matter that there are nimrods with guns running around, because I have a plan’.…

  Tessa shakes her head and mutters, “No.”

  Shocked, I stare at my little sister. It’s as if she’s actually hearing this woman. Is she?

  I press the Blackbird’s power button. The device’s extensions recede and I’m lowered to the lab’s linoleum floor. The blonde turns around and darts in front of Tessa, aiming a gun in my direction.

  I lift my hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot!”

  Tessa grins and sets a hand on the woman’s weapon, lowering it. Her smile widening, Tessa runs my way. I slip the Blackbird into my pocket as my little sister crashes into me with a hug that nearly sends both of us tumbling to the floor. She squeezes me tighter than I thought possible and I close my eyes, which are filling with tears.

  I don’t know what I would’ve done if Dr. Mire had hurt her.

  … How did she appear out of thin air? Did Dr. Mire inject her with a form of Triphylamonal as well? ...

  … This must be Tessa’s older sister. Oh no, if Dr. Lyles is here, this is going to be bad…

  The two streams of consciousness pour into my brain, and I realize that one of them, the more coherent of the two, belongs to my little sister.

  A wave of fear washes over me and as Tessa pulls away from me, I assess her carefully. She looks the same, maybe a little less hunched and ...inward-focused, like she’s more alert to what’s happening around her.

  “Can you … hear?” I ask.

  “Not yet. For now, I only read lips,” Tessa replies, voicing more coherently than I’ve ever heard. I don’t even know what to say.

  Before I can formulate a response, Tessa turns to the woman beside her, who’s nervously eyeing me as she tucks her gun under her lab coat, and lowers her tone to one of authority as she says, “Direct my sister and I to your helicopter.”

  But the woman is still watching me, her blue eyes widening. “…Karen?” As her voice shakes, I realize that this “woman” can’t be all that much older than me.

  “Yeah, I’m Karen. Who are you?”

  She nods, her cheeks flushing. �
�I’m Claire Hawke, technically I work for I.T.I.S. but I’ve been secretly working with your dad. You see, there’s this scientist, Dr. Froner Dortez and he-” Claire shuts up as, in the distance, the heavy lab door slams shut and hurried footsteps sound.

  I reach into my pocket for the Blackbird and spin around, but the approaching I.T.I.S. agent is faster. His gun already drawn he rounds the corner. Claire fumbles with her weapon, accidently dropping it.

  We’re screwed.

  My heart pounding, I lift my hands in surrender and back up, “Please don’t shoot,” I glance at my little sister and she points to the I.T.I.S. agent. A luminescent stream of golden sparks jump from her finger to his chest. I lower my hands, shocked, as the sparks erupt into tiny bonfires that consume the man’s chest. He screams and I’m frozen in disbelief, staring at Tessa.

  Her expression taking on that of a hardened woman’s, her mouth set in a grim, straight line and her forehead lowered, Tessa approaches the agent, her hand extended. She sends another slew of sparks to the man’s skull and he falls to his knees. The agony of his screams tear me from my shock.

  So, this is what Dr. Mire did to my little sister. I don’t know if I’m more disgusted or scared. The smell of charred flesh turning my stomach, I shout, “Tessa, stop!”

  She doesn’t hear me, but stops as the man slouches forward, mortally silenced. With this, Tessa grabs my hand in hers. It’s still warm as she uses her free hand to sign, “Come on, we’ll follow Claire to safety.”

  “No,” I reply, my hands shaking as I stare at her. “Follow me. I came in a ... a sort of airplane. I’ll get us to safety.”

  Tessa’s eyes narrow and she drops my hand. …always so bossy. A dictator through and through…With that, she lifts her chin and looks me in the eye like I’m the enemy. “Why,” Tessa voices, “do you always insist on your way?”

  My mouth going dry, I take a step back and start to sign, “Tessa-”

  “You can speak, Karen,” she says, voicing clearly.

  “Right,” I shake my head, unable to believe I’m so nervous talking to my own sister. It’s not like she’s going to send me up in flames. Still, I can’t quite look her after what I’ve just seen her do. My words coming out in a rush, I say, “I’m not trying to be a dictator. It’s just that in our plane we have these special plant-eating insects called bagradae. And if we release them on the plants I.T.I.S. uses to make serums, we’ll destroy the plants, which will stop I.T.I.S. from kidnapping more kids to use as test subjects.”