Flawed (Perfection)
Page 23
Dr. Loki studied his audience, his eyes moving from one to the next, but Ellyssa noticed that his gaze lingered on her more than anyone else. He wondered about her, her platinum hair and azure eyes, the epitome of Aryan perfection. He had heard, or learned, about The Center; things blurred in the process. Ellyssa poked around in the vagueness but found nothing defined.
After a few seconds, Dr. Loki swept his hand in an arc. “What you are looking at is the completed clandestine operation that went under construction at the same time as Pantex, a bomb plant for the United States Army in nineteen forty-two, almost three months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Of course, Pantex was long ago disassembled, after D-Day. We thrive under the ruins.”
Rein leaned back in his seat. “So, it’s true?”
“What?”
“If you are really here, then there are others. Washington? California?”
“Ah, yes. The rumor mill. As far as I know, yes, they’ve survived. This complex is Sirus, codename, The Pit.” He grinned at the reference. “The one in California is Hypogeus, and the one in Washington is Infernus, which, considering what happened to DC, might be appropriate.”
“All Latin?” Ellyssa said.
Dr. Loki shrugged. “The founders thought the names appropriate.”
Woody’s forehead crinkled. “You don’t know if the others have survived or not?”
“No. I have no idea. I would say the one in California might have survived. I haven’t heard any different. Washington DC is iffy. The Capitol is a wasteland. But, as I’ve already said, as far as I know they all survived.”
Questioning the doctor’s honesty, Rein glanced at Ellyssa. She gave a quick nod. “How can that be?” Rein asked, facing the doctor.
The doctor inhaled deeply. “It was part of the rules that were agreed upon.”
“Rules?”
“It’s complicated,” Dr. Loki stated. “During the nuclear arms race, some top men in the government started construction of the three underground facilities. You understand, just in case. We were lucky, because the just-incase became reality.
“The development and construction of each of the facilities was hidden behind something else to throw off any suspicion. For instance, this facility went under construction during the erection of Pantex. Of course, it took a lot longer to complete than the nine months of construction the bomb plant underwent.
“When it became clear the Allies would not be victorious, we closed the doors and, for the most part, remained self-sufficient. We had our orders. Knew what to do. The risk of contact was too high.”
“But,” Ellyssa said, “you have technology. You have outside sources. Others know of your existence.”
Dr. Loki nodded. “Just like your camp of Renegades had. Let me finish. Back when we started construction, some news leaked out. Probably from the workers. After the War had concluded, people came looking for us, the Germans as well as survivors seeking salvation from the threat of extermination. They didn’t find us, though.”
“What happened to the survivors?” Trista asked.
The doctor shrugged. “I’m sure that, if they didn’t find cover, they were executed.”
Her jaw slack, Trista stared at their host. “You just-just let them die?” Disbelief colored her voice.
“Once the doors were closed, we didn’t open them again for ten years. Those were the orders.”
Trista’s mouth moved as she struggled with words. “You…could have saved them.”
“We don’t take in outsiders.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
Like a bright red blinking sign, Ellyssa saw the lie in the doctor’s mind. A small leak had sprung. All she needed to do was widen the hole. “That isn’t true, is it Dr. Loki. At one time, you were an outsider.”
The doctor’s eyes widened for a moment then narrowed. “I am not an outsider.”
“You were not born here,” she countered.
Dr. Loki’s thoughts reeled as he tried to process her ability to have such knowledge. Something about truth. Ellyssa found herself coasting along the stream that led to his secret, to her answers. A mental picture of a male started to form before it dissipated like smoke on a breeze. The words and images dwindled and distorted. A mental wall blocked her view.
Dr. Loki had stopped the stream himself. On purpose.
Did he know of her ability?
Stubbornly, his lips pressed together as he regarded Ellyssa. Dr. Loki wasn’t going to say anything, or think anything useful, for that matter. Ellyssa suspected his knowledge of The Center was on a more grand scale than just hearsay.
Narrowing her eyes, she poked around a bit more. As if he knew, their host’s mind filled with the periodic table.
Ellyssa tossed him some bait, trying to strengthen the feed to the doctor’s hidden thoughts. “Although very subtle, I can detect a slight German accent.”
Dr. Loki didn’t bite. “Yours isn’t light at all,” he replied calmly.
“Touché,” Ellyssa said.
They stared at each other until the doctor broke contact and turned his attention away from her and back toward Trista. The line Ellyssa had been riding completely snapped as he directed his thoughts toward her friend.
“We would’ve risked everything if we brought in the poor souls. In the beginning, it was all about survival. And this establishment had to survive.”
“Why?” Dyllon asked, breaking his long silence.
A proud smile broke across Dr. Loki’s face. “It would be easier to show you.”
The Pit was huge, a labyrinth of unending sterile corridors, turns and stairs. During their maze run, they passed by the sliding steel door that led to the tunnel where they’d been escorted through into a different section of the underground structure and up to another story.
Finally, the doctor paused at yet another steel door. “I think you will find this impressive.”
Like Ann, he punched in a code and scanned his thumb. The door popped, letting them gain access. The doctor stepped aside while his visitors entered an open room, much like the observation deck of Ellyssa’s father’s at The Center. The grey metal walls housed a line of tables pushed against a large picture window. Each table held two computers. A variety of people with different skin tones and hair colors manned the stations, watching through the glass and documenting their observations.
When they’d entered, some of the observers had glanced over their shoulder, flashing different shades of green, brown, and blue eyes, before disregarding them, their attention captivated by whatever was on the other side of the window.
“Come and look,” invited Dr. Loki.
Below them was a group of about fifty people, all lean and muscular, dressed in white tank tops and roomy pants. Before them stood three teachers Ellyssa immediately recognized as sensei. Loreley and Ann were two of the teachers. The master was of Eastern descent, his hair black as night. He barked orders in Japanese, and the students started a string of katas. From what Ellyssa could tell, the katas were a combination of several different disciplines like what she’d practiced at The Center, containing strikes, kicks and throws to invisible enemies. Ellyssa’s body ached to join them.
“What is this?” Rein questioned.
The corners of the doctor’s lips lifted slyly as he watched his people perform the dance of a conglomeration of the ancient arts. “This place started off with thirty people. Fifteen males and fifteen females. Each a genius in their own right. They didn’t care about nationalities. They cared about expertise.
“When the War broke out, even before the United States entered it, six scientists, two for each of the facilities, scoured the earth for the most intelligent, the best, doctors, scientists, mathematicians, tacticians, arms experts, strategists, even high-ranking military personnel.
“Today, our population stands at two hundred fifty.” The doctor’s chest puffed out and his chin lifted. “The people below are Alpha Group One, our best. We have an Alpha Group T
wo and Three, and our Beta Group consists of twenty-three children between the ages of five and sixteen.”
Ellyssa stared at the group of people. Their lean bodies moved with precision, the execution of the kata perfect, their stances flawless. They reminded Ellyssa of herself, her sister and her brothers. With growing alarm, she realized that, in a roundabout way, the Resistance, lurking beneath Pantex, had accomplished the exact same thing that her father had, just not on as grand a scale.
Soldiers meant to execute.
“You asked about us being in contact with the other facilities.” Dr. Loki said. “One day, when we are ready, we plan on taking back what is ours.”
“With two hundred fifty people?” Woody asked, dubiously.
“We have our contacts, too. The few are…let us say…important people in high places. The Resistance is like a surreptitious organization within an organization.” Dr. Loki’s gaze landed on Ellyssa, then shot away. “I’m sure you have a lot more questions. And I have several of my own. But I do have work to do.” He walked toward the door, where two men waited on the other side. “Oliver and Glenn,” he introduced, nodding in respective order. “Please show our guests to their quarters.”
Turning, Dr. Loki gestured with his arm, inviting them out. “If you please.”
“No, I will not please,” Woody said, pointing his finger in the doctor’s face. “You brought us here against our will.”
The one he called Oliver stepped forward, but the doctor stopped him with a wave of his hand. “I am sorry to inform you of this, but I do have other duties. Our discussion will have to continue after dinner tonight. Then, I’ll show you the rest of The Pit.”
Glowering, Woody looked like he was going to say something else. Actually, he looked like he was about to demand answers, but before he did, Ellyssa placed her hand on his wrist.
“Woody.” She shook her head. “Not now.”
Surprisingly, Woody’s demeanor cooled and he backed away. “After dinner, then,” he said tersely. He glanced at Ellyssa, a strange look on his face.
“Of course. I assure you I do understand your interest. I am just as interested in you. Now, if you will excuse me.” Dr. Loki ushered them out and shut the steel entrance, leaving them outside with their new escorts.
“Come with us,” the one called Oliver said.
Oliver was a smaller man, about Ellyssa’s height, defined and wiry, with black hair pulled into a ponytail, amber eyes, and exotic light-brown skin. Glenn was much taller, big and bulky. His skin was as dark as Jordan’s, his hair curled tight to his scalp. Reminiscent of Rein, his arms crossed over his muscular chest as he watched Ellyssa and the others file behind Oliver to another section of the clandestine structure.
Oliver and Glenn led the group down one long corridor to another. Ellyssa assumed they were taking the scenic route to keep the newcomers confused. She didn’t blame them. If her own group had had a technological goldmine such as this, keeping any guests confused and lost would be an integral part of defense for them as well. Unfortunately for them, Ellyssa had a tight grasp of exactly where they were. And if she knew Rein and Woody, they too had the maze memorized. Their whole lives had been living in a network of dark passages where the development of such skills was necessary.
Bottom line, the place was still impressively huge. Layer upon layer of levels and a labyrinth of passageways.
Oliver led them down four flights of stairs, then down a very long passageway. Ellyssa could hear the thoughts of the occupants behind the closed doors as they passed, pleasant thoughts of companions or of work that needed to done. Nothing sinister. The family seemed to be as close-knit as hers had been. Living together, working together. But toward what end? Something more than just surviving?
Oliver stopped at the end of the hall. “You two,” he said indicating Trista and Ellyssa, “are in here.” He slid the door back on a track.
Ellyssa gave Rein a reassuring smile before she entered the room behind Trista. Unlike the other rooms she’d seen, the walls had a type of cream-colored padding—noise reduction?—and there was a thin brown carpet. A little more homey than rest of the institution. Two small beds, with thin mattresses and army-green blankets and a small bedside table nestled between, made up the furnishings. Off to the left was a wooden door left ajar. A sink and part of a shower were visible, leading her to believe there was a water treatment process somewhere within the steel structure.
On the beds lay their backpacks and one of the three tents rolled into a tight cylinder. Ellyssa went right over to her bag and reached inside the side pocket. Her fingers enveloped the smooth cave pearl. Relieved, she left the little pearl where it was and faced Oliver and Glenn.
“Where are our weapons?”
Glenn was the one to answer. “They’ve been stored away. You have no need for them.”
Scanning his mind, an image appeared of a rather impressive arsenal—pistols, rifles, grenades, launchers and crossbows for hunting, two floors above them, one level directly below the entrance to the tunnel leading back to the canyon.
Behind him, Rein clenched his fist. Ellyssa tossed him a comforting smile and shook her head. Rein’s hand relaxed.
Oliver opened the door directly across from Ellyssa and Trista’s room. “You three in here.”
With reluctant glances, Rein, Woody and Dyllon ventured into their room, which had the same décor as the girls’ room.
“The showers are on timers. Five minutes. I suggest you use them.” Glenn grimaced, flaring his nostril. “The doctor requests you to stay in your rooms until dinner.”
Rein’s worried eyes were the last thing Ellyssa saw as their escorts slid the doors closed. Only one set of steps left.
“Oliver is our guard,” Ellyssa stated.
32
Commandant Hans Baer stepped out onto the deck in front of his office. The morning was warmer than usual, but a chill still bit his skin. Anger gnawed his insides.
Blue skies housing an afternoon sun did little to brighten his mood. Not after the phone call he’d received from Xaver. He was to expect them later in the day, unfortunately before the blizzard the radar predicted.
Off to his left, prisoners walked into the newly finished rec center carrying gallons of paint, brushes sticking out of their pockets. A few stayed out in the cold, fingers sticking through thin gloves, finishing final touchups. Although still underweight, their steps bounced with a renewed vigor, and their frames looked less like scarecrows drowning in grey stripes and more like humans.
Doc stood among the ones outside, still on light duty as had been ordered, carrying a canteen of water to his fellow inmates. Doc glanced up at the Commandant when he stepped outside. He flicked his head to the side toward the sergeant-at-arms, and Hans’ gaze shifted to the enlisted man.
Like most of the soldiers, the sergeant stood along the stone wall, his arms crossed in front, a rifle slung over his back. Only, instead of observing the working prisoners, the Sergeant was staring at him.
Taking Xaver’s hand, Aalexis stepped out of the SUV. His touch still left a mixture of confusion and comfort. She was growing accustomed to their new arrangement, though. To embrace the emotions she’d felt for her brother had settled the unease, the anxious feeling. No longer did she fathom the insanity of such sensations or fear them weakening her. Aalexis’ head remained clear and focused.
As soon as Aalexis had agreed to stop fighting the innate urges, Xaver had embraced her with a fierce hug. He fell into the role of loving her just as easily as he had protecting her. Perhaps because Xaver had already accepted the feelings way before her.
Aalexis looked over at her brother. Xaver rummaged in the back of the SUV and pulled out their bags. The coat he wore hid muscles she knew bulged under the weight. Hands full, he straightened, his azure eyes catching hers. His full lips lifted briefly, then fell back to their previous placid state.
They’d agreed that what happened between them would not show to the outside world. Only
inferior beings were stupid enough to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Excluding Xaver, she’d found the barrage of feelings did not include the lowly creatures, anyway. Aalexis’ detestation of them remained as active and strong as ever.
A cold breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders and fanned it around her head. She pulled the hood of her parka up and gazed out across the camp. Prisoners milled around a building that hadn’t been there at their last visit, folding tarps and cleaning paintbrushes. They seemed stronger, the clothes they wore newer, gaunt expressions lessened, and hope seemed to spring in their steps.
Guards stood watch, bored looks on their inferior faces. Except one, whose face remained shadowed under the cap he wore, a square jaw set tight. Although he wasn’t facing her, his eyes were on her, watching.
For a moment, Aalexis played with the idea of sending the male to his knees, the mere thought of pain incapacitating him. Removing his cap, the male turned toward her. Blond hair cut short shelved over a hardened face. Fearlessly, his eyes carved into her. Aalexis recognized the look. She’d seen it enough times in the mirror.
“Who is he?” Aalexis asked Xaver.
Xaver glanced over and subtly curled a nostril. Was he jealous? “I do not know,” he replied, turning away.
Keeping her eyes firmly set on the male, who didn’t carry the good sense to flinch away, an idea started to take shape.
“There might be a use for some of the subhumans. The detective proved to be useful to a certain extent.”
“She betrayed der Vater.”
“Yes. He did not have the insight we do now. We could rectify the problem.”
Xaver turned and studied the male. “I see,” he stated, understanding Aalexis’ train of thought.