by M. N. Arzu
25
Backdoor
Although Higgs’s first concern was Drake’s well-being, there were hundreds of details to solve before he could return to the merman. He’d had Nathan to do this back in ORCAS, and Major White had definitely run a tight ship when it came to organization and security. But this was not ORCAS, and Higgs didn’t know anyone here he could trust with the care of his patient. His request for special equipment had taken hours, and he’d spent the rest of the time looking for the actual equipment available.
The Navy was quick at forming its chain of command, but too many people wanted to have Drake in their hands to make the process smooth. At the top of the chain, one Admiral Coleman had taken the reins, but everyone below him was pulling ranks and playing politics, which was not helping anyone, especially not Drake.
And Higgs wasn’t part of the Navy.
There was a real chance the good doctor was going to be taken out of the picture soon, so he had to work efficiently and diligently with everything he did. Not the least of it all a feeding schedule. Realizing it was past 7:00 p.m., he cursed.
Food! Of all the things to forget…
Drake had been given a special liquid diet so it would be easy to digest. It was also easy to consume, since he couldn’t leave the pool and he wasn’t going to eat raw fish thrown from the sidelines. But his last meal had been around 11:00 a.m., and a liquid diet never satisfied anybody, much less an adult merman.
By the time Higgs made it to the observation room with food for two, he realized he needed food for seven. The main tank and the main observation deck were buzzing with life as three marines connected equipment, talked to each other, and coded on large, silver laptops; but the truly amazing part was that Drake was in the middle of the whole thing.
I leave you alone for the afternoon and you take over the whole kingdom, Higgs thought with a smirk.
Last time Higgs had seen Drake, they were using a whiteboard and a marker to communicate with each other. Clearly, that was not going to be enough for the Navy, or any speedy communications between Drake and anyone else.
By now, computers had been brought in, a console installed, and two large TVs set up, one facing Higgs and one facing Drake. On the other side of the glass wall, Drake was happily typing away on some sort of wrist keyboard that worked underwater, and his instructions were showing up on the monitors, along with blinking lines of code.
Beside Drake, Lieutenant Lewis was once again wearing a diving suit, floating while also using a wrist keyboard. It looked as if they were running computer tests, even if the younger marine typing on this side of the room kept cursing under his breath. Another marine started signaling for Drake and Lewis to wait.
“You didn’t say he was an engineer,” Dr. Greensburg said as he joined him in watching both teams work. “Is that food you brought?”
“Is he?” Higgs asked, surprised, offering the hamburger to his colleague. “I suspected he was good with computers, but coding and putting together a machine are two different skills.”
“Oh yeah, he must certainly is. Things were going really slow when they started at noon, but once they gave him the keyboard, it just went flying by. The lieutenant joined them after midday so they could speed up the testing on Drake’s side. They seemed to be hitting it off pretty well.”
“What exactly are they trying to do?”
“Beats me. I’m a doctor, not a nerd.”
Higgs laughed wholeheartedly, and then turned to look at the technicians and divers. “Would you like to take a break to eat?” he asked loudly.
There was microphone feedback coming from somewhere, and Drake immediately covered his ears, the wrist keyboard sinking to the floor.
“Sorry! So sorry,” one of the men said as he turned something off. “We can’t make the audio system function without deafening Drake in there.”
“Does he know how to fix it?” Higgs asked, looking as Drake reached for the keyboard and started writing again.
“He needs to see what we’re doing, so we’re trying to connect a live feed. I mean, I’m sure we can work this out, but it’s just incredible to see him solving these problems in half the time. Like, we had this grand idea of projecting the text onto the glass and the keyboard into the pool, and having a voice-activated system—Drake rolled his eyes at us and told us how to do it faster and smarter. It’s not as elegant, but it works.”
The coding man stopped typing behind them and looked at the tank. Drake kept typing, and then the large monitor facing them was filled with text.
Hey, Higgs! Did you say something about food? Because that hamburger looks mighty tasty.
Dr. Greensburg stopped mid-bite, turning red as he was suddenly the center of attention.
“I’m afraid yours is still a liquid diet,” Higgs said, showing him a thermos. He stepped right in front of Drake, the thick glass separating the water world from the air world looking less like a barrier with each passing message. Behind Higgs, the technician started typing, transcribing Higgs’s words to the TV facing the merman. “Are you feeling okay?”
Drake nodded, even gave him a slight smile as he rubbed his stomach. Hungry, he typed, and the lieutenant added, Me too.
“If only Ray had been this cooperative, where would we be now?” Higgs muttered as he turned around. “Okay, people, let me get us dinner and then we can all take a break.”
* * *
Drake was hungry, no question about it. He estimated he hadn’t eaten anything solid for the better part of twenty-four hours, but he needed everybody gone while he worked a few more code lines into the program.
Displaying the chat lines on the monitors was definitely useful, and working on how to get the voice feature going was a somewhat interesting problem, but neither thing was what Drake was after. His wireless keyboard connected to the inner network through Bluetooth, and if he could connect to this network, then maybe he could jump into another, a non-restricted one where he could get a message out into the world.
More importantly, even if he could not infiltrate any network to contact the outside right this moment, he could plant a few things in the programming in case they did eventually connect. He had to do it now, though. Now, when the programmers were on cloud nine while working with him. Now, when they weren’t thinking what else he could do with the communication system.
Lieutenant Lewis—formerly Louie the First—had become his diver companion for the better part of the afternoon. As Lewis went to the surface because his oxygen tank was running on empty, and the others followed Higgs out of the room with the promise of food, Drake had the whole system for himself. For the next few minutes, he was guaranteed to be alone.
He got to work.
All he needed was a cell phone with the Bluetooth activated. Where are you, where are you? he thought as he hacked into the main system and went looking for a gateway. In the back of his mind, he realized that it was only a matter of time before someone figured out what he might be doing, or that maybe someone could track him down.
You want to know how smart we are… nothing better than a real taste…
Since the moment he’d realized what type of communication system the marines had wanted to install, all his focus had been on how to get that thing working in his favor. How to send a message out. Now that he was so close, it was time to decide what, exactly, he needed to say.
He stopped typing for a moment. They had gotten away with rescuing Christopher because the government didn’t know who they were or what they could do. They had lost that advantage now, and Julian would never be able to get him free the same way they had gotten his son out. No, this had to be a bigger plan. Narrowing his eyes, he slowly started typing again as the meager beginnings of an idea took hold in his brain.
Bigger. Think bigger.
Their main advantage with Christopher hadn’t been anonymity; it had been placing the right people in the right places. From Diana to Nathan, to the protesters outside ORCAS, everyone had played a role. Bigger meant exp
anding on the tactics that had led to success.
Bigger also meant securing an escape route where water would be guaranteed. Nothing like being rescued just to die from lack of oxygen fifteen minutes later.
He thought about Julian, and discarded messaging him. Higgs was right. White was more than likely going to tell Julian some version of the truth, so Drake couldn’t really risk misleading his friend. No, Julian would make a move, but Drake had to be ready on his side as well. And for that, he needed to mobilize something bigger than Brooks Inc. alone.
The system suddenly gave him access. A weak signal was in range. Losing no time, he seized on a plan, and sent his message to the outside.
* * *
“Teach me how to trace Adrian,” Matt said as Scott got out of the water, ready to charge into the kitchen for a late-night snack. He was so hungry.
“So funny, Matthew,” Scott said, dripping venom as his brother passed him a towel. Tracing was supposed to be an advanced telepathic skill, at least according to Julian. Scott had been stellar at it, finding Wallace’s mental currents—and unknowingly allowing the murderer to trace him back. Still, regardless of how good Scott had been, his telepathy was gone. All that made him special was gone.
“I’m not kidding,” Matt insisted, his eyes looking a bit wild. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you can teach me, the way you were teaching us how to eavesdrop on the Council.”
Scott stopped drying himself, his blue eyes looking into Matt’s gray ones. “You’re really not kidding. What did he do?”
“Nothing,” Matt said evasively. “I just…I just don’t think he’s being completely honest with me. He just…he knows things. He's suddenly mentioning how I'm turning eighteen next month. How the hell does he know that?” Anguish flashed in his brother’s eyes, such an uncharacteristic emotion in Matt’s self-assured demeanor.
“You should ask Julian,” Scott said, frowning. “He would have no problem getting something out of Adrian. Julian is at least a hundred years older.”
Matt shook his head. “I don’t want Julian looking into this. He already has a lot of problems with Drake going missing. If he thinks Adrian is up to no good, I’m just going to stretch his defenses thin. It’s me who Adrian wants, so it’s me who’s going to deal with him, okay?”
Dressing in a t-shirt and pants, Scott mulled this over. “What do you think Adrian is hiding?”
“I don’t know. And he might not even be hiding anything, not exactly. He hasn’t made it secret he thinks the Council is bad news, and he wants me to go with him. Put some distance between me and Julian so I can see the truth or some crap like that.”
“He’s not wrong, you know?” Scott said, reaching for his sneakers. “You’ve lived under Julian’s protection, so you know him as your guardian. But before becoming a Brooks, you had no position regarding the Council, and you didn’t care about what they did. Putting some distance between you and Julian will give you a sense of how the Council works—and why many distrust them.”
He stood up and started walking to the kitchen, when Matthew placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Scott turned around, frowning. “Perspective, Matthew,” he said, shrugging. “How are you going to understand something as complex as the Council position in merfolk life if all you have is one side of the story? This side of the story, to be exact.” Scott looked to the living room. To the lavish life the Brookses led.
“I thought you trusted Julian,” Matt said, letting him go as if he’d been burned.
“I do,” Scott said, now thoroughly confused. “That’s the thing. I grew up listening to my parents warning me about the Council, to the point I avoided them at all costs. And then I was rescued by them. They promised me I would get justice for my parents’ murder, and I did. I’ve gotten to know not only Julian but also Drake. So I’ve seen both sides of the argument, and now I’ve made up my mind based on the pros and cons. I stayed here out of conviction, not out of convenience. But you don’t have that.”
Matt stared at him, perplexed.
“Look, all I’m saying is that Adrian’s not entirely wrong. You should get another perspective so you can decide for yourself if the Council is right or wrong or somewhere in between.” Scott paused, and weighed how much he wanted to tell Matt what he felt. Just because Adrian wasn’t wrong, it didn’t mean he was a saint. “For what it’s worth, I do believe he’s hiding something,” he finally admitted, tensing at Matt’s reaction.
Matt blinked. “Wait, what?”
Scott sighed, his stomachs demanding food. “I’ve only seen him once, when he came that first day to talk to you. So I might be reading something wrong, and Julian said Adrian’s entitled to his secrets the way we are to ours—”
“You don’t believe you were wrong,” Matt said. “You wouldn’t be telling me this if you weren’t sure.”
“I might just be lacking perspective,” Scott said, a little unnerved at Matt’s intense gaze. “I haven’t spent time with him.”
“No, but I have. And I feel exactly what you describe. Adrian’s hiding something, something big. So, are you going to teach me how to trace him or not?”
“But you know I’m blind!” Scott blurted out, a part of him recoiling at saying it out loud.
“Yeah, and I don’t think that’s going to stop you. So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?”
26
Proof of Life
The call came at 10:00 p.m. sharp.
“Mr. Brooks, Drake is alive.”
Air rushed out of Julian’s lungs, and he found himself suddenly sitting down. He’d been expecting to be informed Drake had died, or that he was still missing. He hadn’t dared to hope the news would be good, especially since Major White had taken so long to call.
“Where?” he whispered. Swallowing a moment later, he said louder, “Where is he?”
“He suffered some injuries, and Dr. Higgs is treating him now. But I’m afraid the details of his location are not being disclosed. They don’t want to risk his safety or treatment.”
“I need to talk to him, then,” Julian said, his mind working out of its shock. “I need to hear from him that he’s all right if you want me to believe you.” The silence that followed made him grip the phone harder. “What are you not telling me, Major?”
“He can’t talk. From what we’ve gathered, he received a high-voltage discharge, and he’s unable to shift his lungs from breathing water to breathing air. He can’t talk with his voice.”
“You have a Council member against his will, so don’t play games with me now.”
“How about Dr. Higgs? Would talking to him ease your mind?”
“That’s not what I want.”
“It’s all I can offer. Drake is under the Navy’s care, Mr. Brooks. I have no access to him nor do I have any leverage to ask for favors. I barely have clearance enough to know his medical needs. Aside from his lungs being unresponsive to shifting, he suffered some minor cuts.”
“Minor cuts?”
“He tried to escape when he woke up and walked through some glass. He didn’t know he wasn’t in any danger by that point,” White emphasized, knowing full well how the whole thing sounded to Julian’s suspicious ears.
If he attempted to escape, then he really is in good shape. His heart beat easier. It also meant Drake’s mind was working at its full capacity.
“He also attacked the captain of the U.S.S. Honos during the attempt, and that has complicated things. The Navy wants to question him about the other merman as well. The truth is, Drake aggravated things by pulling that stunt, but he was already in hot water when the other merman disrupted the diving test and destroyed the unmanned submarine. With all due respect, Mr. Brooks, it doesn’t look good.”
My, you have been busy, Julian fleetingly thought, as he mapped White’s information in his mind. He had to be smart about dealing with this, especially if Major White was willing to negotiate
to an extent. More importantly, he needed to devise a way to get Drake out of the Navy’s hands even if he couldn’t breathe.
“I’ll talk with Dr. Higgs,” Julian said after a moment. “And then we’ll take it from there.”
* * *
Higgs finished reading his latest report on Drake’s health, and saved the document. It was close to 11:00 p.m., and he fleetingly wondered how their weekly meeting at the Brooklyn bar had gone. He also wondered if he was going to be there next week, or if this was the first day of many that he would spend watching Drake as a prisoner in the tank.
His patient had gone to the farthest corner to get some rest, but now that all the cameras had been installed, Higgs could see the merman on the screen, lying on his stomach with his black tail extended straight. He looked peaceful. Ordering people around had certainly given Drake a sense of control.
The door behind him opened, and Higgs turned to see who the newcomer was. The Institute was now crawling with Navy staff, so he wasn’t surprised when a high-ranking Navy officer entered.
“Dr. Higgs?” the man asked, his white uniform pristine. “I’m Admiral Coleman.”
“Admiral, of course. You’re the one running the show now,” Higgs said with a smile and a firm handshake. Coleman smiled as well, his eyes centering on the screen where Drake was sleeping.
“I’ve never seen one so close,” he said. “How is he?”
“I won’t fully know until the rest of the medical equipment arrives, but he’s in good spirits. In fact, he’s giving your men a run for their money,” Higgs answered. “He helped them to simplify the communication interface, or something fancy like that. Your team was impressed.”
“He also made an impression on Lieutenant Lewis and the rest of the diving team. Major White is fighting really hard to be here, making sure Drake is not—what was the word? Mistreated. As if we would jeopardize the only live specimen we have.”