“What? Why?” Penny asked.
“The created are a danger to the progress the talented have made in the more reluctant nations. You all forget, the United States is a progressive nation. It was the first to grant Talents equal rights and pass protection laws.”
“Yeah, that mandatory testing law really protects us,” Erik muttered.
Victoria eyed him coolly. “UNITED does not agree with the mandatory testing laws as they are interpreted today, Mr. Kelley. But when they were first crafted, the purpose was to identify talented children so that they could be sheltered from those who meant them harm. You have no idea what it was like for the early generations,” her eyes flashed with barely contained anger, “what it is still like for many in other countries. If the created are not caught and contained, we, the talented, may be forced into exile.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
From above, The Oceania looked like a titanium island. It was huge, one mile in length and half as wide, according to Victoria. Like Crane’s cottage, the sublevels were the heart of the structure. Two hundred floors stretched miles underneath the water’s calm, crystalline surface.
We touched down on a small runway on the east end of Oceania. A crew of UNITED guards were waiting on our arrival. The head guard, Captain Klegg, was a man of few words and even fewer strands of hair. His mocha skin had been turned to dark chocolate by the sun’s rays. Tour guide was not in his job description, apparently, so I was left to wonder about the strange glass pods that littered the main level.
Erik matched my short stride, keeping a firm grip on my hand despite Victoria’s pointed glares at our twined fingers. Neither of us cared about professionalism or whatever; we both needed the comfort only physical contact could provide. Even Brand seemed to understand how difficult facing Mac and Gretchen would be, and he took hold of Penny’s hand and didn’t let go as we followed Captain Klegg to the elevator.
The inside of the car was three walls of thick glass, all tinted aqua. I felt like a curtain had been draped over my head, casting a watery haze over the world. There were no buttons or control panels on the walls.
“Captain Johan Klegg,” a mechanical voice with a faint British accent announced once we were all aboard. “Identify your companions.”
“High security,” Erik mused.
“Agreed,” I sent back.
Biometric identification was common in TOXIC’s secure facilities. Coalition Headquarters had palm scanners outside certain doors. So, this was nothing new for me. Victoria had said that the Oceania wasn’t strictly a prison. They’d only taken Mac and Gretchen here because it was one of the few places where escape was futile. Even if either McDonough managed to break free from their captors, there was nowhere to go. The hovers were all programmed for specific individuals with limited override permissions. The fleet of minisubs moored at three locations around the island was the same way. Only those assigned to The Oceania could leave The Oceania. Mac and Gretchen were decent swimmers, but the closest land was hundreds of miles away. Apparently, making it up the elevator was unlikely, too.
Each of us was directed to say our full names in clear, concise tones. The computer took its time processing our voices and matching them to voiceprints stored in some unseen database. I wondered when Victoria had compiled the information, but decided that wasn’t important right now.
After the computer was satisfied that we were all authorized personnel, Captain Klegg instructed the elevator to take us to AF3.
My ears popped, and my chest felt like a small child was sitting on it. The farther we descended into the ocean, the worse the sensation became. AF3 turned out to be the deepest sublevel of The Oceania – the ocean floor. The sublevel was entirely made of thick, transparent plastic and I could easily see all of the individual rooms that covered the mile-long floor.
“Freaky,” Erik sent.
I nodded, too awed to speak.
Down here everyone wore white. Doctors were in one room to the left of the elevator, and were busy measuring colorful liquids in tube-shaped vials. I recognized the woman with the pink hair from the strategy meeting. Today she wore big goggles that obscured her eyes as she worked with the chemicals.
“That is where our researchers develop drugs and medications for the talented,” Victoria said, catching my eye. “Many of the compounds they work with are highly volatile. Much like many Talents themselves.” Victoria gestured towards me, but I let the comment go. “Each sublevel can be locked and segregated from the rest of the levels in the event of an accident.” There was a note of pride in her voice.
Captain Klegg was leading our group down a long corridor. Most of the rooms held hospital-style beds and state-of-the-art medical machines. None were occupied, but all appeared to be clean and well maintained.
“This is our sick bay. The clear walls make it easy to observe the patients,” Victoria explained.
“Are you thinking of using this as a containment facility?” Brand asked.
It was the first time he’d spoken since we’d landed on The Oceania, and he sounded just as fascinated by the island as I was.
“Quite likely, Mr. Meadows,” Victoria answered.
We reached the end of the hallway. To the left was another see-through hallway, lined with more rooms. The closest looked like a cafeteria. To the right was a solid, steel-reinforced door marked, “Authorized Personnel Only.” A lone guard, a woman with the name Mashburn sewn over her left breast, saluted Captain Klegg.
“Mashburn, these are the visitors I was telling you about,” Captain Klegg told her.
Mashburn had olive skin that appeared ashen, like she’d spent a lot of time down here as opposed to on deck. Her dark hair was cut short and threaded with blue highlights. Bags hung under her reddish-purple eyes that were heavy with exhaustion and devoid of any makeup. The most notable thing about Mashburn was the power she emitted. She was an extremely strong Talent with energy practically pouring off of her.
“All preparations are in place, sir,” she said. Her accent was thicker than Victoria’s, and not as polished.
Captain Klegg turned to address our group. “The prisoner has asked to speak with you alone, Ms. Lyons. Obviously the decision is yours. President Crane or Councilman Walburton may accompany you, or two of my guards can.”
I exchanged glances with first Erik, and then Crane. We all knew these were Gretchen’s terms. I was willing to speak with her alone, but neither man thought it was a good idea.
“I’ll go by myself,” I told Captain Klegg.
He nodded his balding head. “Very well. Mashburn will take you to the pod. The rest of you may join me in observation.”
I released Erik’s hand. He bent down and kissed my cheek. “Remember, you can end this whenever you want,” he sent.
“I know,” I sent back.
“We will be watching, Ms. Lyons. If things get out of control, we will get you out,” Victoria told me. Even she sounded nervous.
Not good, I thought.
“I understand,” I said.
The group waited while Mashburn went through the necessary authorization protocols to open the heavy steel door. Finally, after what felt like hours, the door swung outwards with a loud whoosh. Without looking at my friends, I followed Mashburn through. The moment I crossed the threshold, the door closed, the locks settled back into place.
I looked around and found myself in a giant plastic tube, just wide enough for me to skim my fingertips along the sides if I stretched my arms out and tall enough even Henri would have been able to stand up straight. Dark sapphire water cast an eerie blue light over the entire tube, including the guards lining both sides. Large fish swam by in a neon rainbow. The walkway beneath my feet was several inches off the bottom of the tube, which sat directly on the seafloor. Plants swayed with the movement of the water, brushing against the sides of the tube as we walked.
“Our researchers have been working on restoring the marine life that lived in this region before the Great Co
ntamination.” Mashburn spoke in a soft voice, but it echoed loudly in the tube. “Using DNA from fossils, they have been successful in restoring the ecosystem in this area. As you can see, the scientists have taken some liberties.” She shrugged her thin shoulders sheepishly. “We don’t have a lot to look at down here. The pretty fish spice it up a little.”
Under different circumstances, I would have found this all very interesting. But confronting Gretchen dominated my thoughts, and I found I had little room in my head for any others. So, I simply said, “Cool.”
“Mrs. McDonough is in a pod at the end of the hallway,” Mashburn said.
“Pod?” I asked. Captain Klegg had called it a pod, too. I’d thought maybe I’d misheard him, but now that Mashburn had used the same term, I was sure I hadn’t.
“When The Oceania was built, the architect put in several prison pods. They’re glass bubbles located on the ocean floor. Each one is self-contained with a bed, bathroom, and enough dehydrated food to last a year. It’s worse than solitary. We can observe the prisoner at all times since the pods are entirely transparent. Zero privacy. Both the McDonoughs are in pods. Not together, of course.”
We came to a three-way fork in the hallway. Mashburn indicated the right prong, and we entered another tube. This one was identical to the last, except approximately ten meters down, the hallway ended at a steel door with a black square where a handle should’ve been. It was marked, “Prison Pod Two.”
“The door only opens from this side,” Mashburn advised me as we neared the entrance to Gretchen’s pod. “Should you need help, we can have it open in under ten seconds. For safety reasons, we don’t allow weapons in the pods.”
“I understand,” I said.
The no weapons rule was smart. If Gretchen overpowered me and got her hands on a gun or something, I’d be dead before the door was open.
“I’ll be right here,” Mashburn said, and then gestured to the other guards stationed in this prong of the tube. “So will they. You have nothing to worry about.”
That’s what you think, I thought.
“Ready?” she asked me.
I nodded.
This time the authorization protocols seemed to go through in the blink of an eye. Before I knew it, I was standing inside the pod, face-to-face with Gretchen McDonough.
“Talia, dear, so good of you to come.”
Gretchen stood in the middle of the pod between a twin bed with crisp, perfectly straight white sheets and a small rubber cabinet. Behind Gretchen was a toilet, sink, and shower stall. The ceiling was sloped. Where I’d entered the pod, it was low enough my ponytail touched the plastic. In the center of the pod, where Gretchen was standing, the ceiling reached its peak of about seven feet. The diameter was no more than ten feet long. All-in-all, extremely claustrophobic.
“You wanted to talk to me,” I said stiffly.
Staring into Gretchen’s bright blue eyes made my chest ache; they were nearly identical to Donavon’s. Only his eyes had been warm and caring. Hers were like icebergs, giving off the same frigid air that Mac’s did. Gretchen’s hair was neatly styled in a bun, and even though she wore no makeup, she was beautiful. Prison seemed to agree with her. Even the shapeless white pants and tunic looked chic on Gretchen.
Gretchen gestured to the bed, an invitation to sit like this was a social visit.
I ignored her hospitality. “What do you want, Gretchen?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about her. Hating Mac had been easy, but it hadn’t come over night either. I’d remained willfully ignorant for so long that when I finally accepted the truth about him, I was ready to hate him. Still, I never was confident that I could kill him when the time came. Gretchen, well, her betrayal hadn’t really sunk in yet. Even seeing her in this pod prison, it was hard for me to believe she’d been a part of creating Talents. Maybe that was why I’d agreed to speak with her. Maybe I needed to hear the truth from her mouth.
Gretchen wrung her hands in front of her. “Talia, dear,” she began, and the pressure started to build in the back of my skull.
“Stop it,” I hissed through gritted teeth. My mental walls were already in place, but that didn’t stop Gretchen from trying to invade my mind.
The pressure lessened slightly. It was now more like an itch on my brain.
“Why, Gretchen?” I asked. “Why’d you do it?”
I didn’t know what exactly I expected her to say. Did I want her to tell me Mac had forced her to do it? Did I want her to tell me she was sorry?
“At one time we, the talented, were plentiful. Strong Talents, like you, were the norm. Now?” She laughed that bitter laughter I’d come to associate with her husband. I shivered. “Now we’re a minority. A minority, Talia. If we let nature run its course, the talented will be extinct before too long. The created are the answer. The created are the way our kind will continue to thrive in this world.”
“They aren’t like us, Gretchen,” I said. “The created aren’t natural. They aren’t born with the power, and they can’t control it.”
As I watched her blue eyes grow wide and unfocused, I wondered if even those of us born with the power were able to control it.
“They are easily controlled, though. You, me, people like us, we can control the created. That’s why we wanted you, Talia. Few Mind Manipulators are strong enough to control so many people at once. Together, you and I could have led Danbury’s army. We could have spread our gifts to all of the citizens of the United States.”
“So that was your big plan?” I asked. “You wanted to make everyone talented? Why?”
“Not everyone, dear. Just those who deserve it. Like my son. Donavon deserved to be talented. His lineage was excellent for it. Yet somehow, he was born ordinary. But, you, you with two ordinary parents won the genetic lottery, and were born the strongest Mind Manipulator since the first generation of talented. It’s not fair. Well, the creation drug takes genetics out of it. Now all the worthy can be talented. As to the why? Given the choice, wouldn’t you rather be talented than not? I would. So would many of the ordinary.”
Of course I would, I thought, but stopped the words before they slipped passed my lips. I wasn’t willing to give Gretchen the satisfaction of agreeing with her. She knew I loved being talented, that I craved the power my gifts brought with them. She’d been the first person to warn me against abusing my talents, about taking advantage of others using them. I laughed humorlessly. Ironic, I thought.
I rubbed my temples. The headache had spread from the base of my skull, around the sides of my head, to settle above my eyes. I squinted, the dim light in the pod seemed to exacerbate the pain inside my head.
“Did you ask me here to prove you’re the stronger Talent now?” I snapped. She was pounding on my mental walls, doing everything in her considerable power to break them down. It took everything I had to keep her out. She was more powerful than I remembered.
“No, dear.” Gretchen’s smile was somehow both sickeningly sweet and bitterly cold. “I asked you here because you are the strong Talent.”
My heart skipped a beat. What the hell was she talking about?
The ache in my head reached a breaking point. It felt like my brain was fracturing. I closed my eyes, and tried to block the pain. A sound, like ice shattering, filled my ears. The air in the pod seemed to become thinner, making it harder to breathe. I started gasping for breath, but got a mouthful of water instead.
That was when I realized that shattering ice noise wasn’t in my head, and it wasn’t ice. The dome top of the pod had splintered, allowing streams of ocean water in.
Ten seconds.
Ten seconds, that was how long Mashburn said it would take for the guards to open the pod door.
The cracks in the dome ceiling became larger. Ten seconds might be too long.
Streams of water turned to raging rivers. Water was filling to bottom of the pod. Cold and wet, it swirled around my ankles, soaking through my suit pants.
“What are you doin
g? Trying to drown us?” I screamed to be heard over the rushing water.
I started backing towards the solitary door. As soon as the guards had it open, I was out of here.
Gretchen said nothing. Her eyes started rolling around in their sockets, one blue orb going clockwise, the other going counterclockwise. Then, a huge chunk in the center of the ceiling fell inward, flooding the pod.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The idea to morph into one of the brightly-colored fish swimming nearby did occur to me. But before I had the opportunity, the door to the pod opened, sucking me towards it like a gigantic vacuum. The water and I rushed into the tube, knocking over Mashburn and the other guards trying to close the door behind me. I was tossed head over heels through the tube before finally being slammed into a wall, shoulder first.
I swore when my head followed my shoulder into the wall, and I received a mouthful of saltwater for my troubles. Splashing and the sound of my name followed. Then, pounding from the other side of the wall caught my attention.
Disoriented, I tried to put my feet down – at least the direction I thought was down. Immense relief filled me when my flats found the metal walkway of the tube. With my feet firmly underneath me, I stood, and was surprised the water was only waist high.
Mashburn was wading through the seawater from the opposite end of the tube.
“Talia? Are you okay? We had to seal this part of the tube to prevent contamination in the other areas. We’ll get it open as soon as we drain this tube.” She was out of breath by the time she reached me.
“I’m good,” I said, shrugging out of suit jacket since it was weighing me down. “Did, did, Gretchen get away?” I asked through chattering teeth. The water was freezing.
I pushed past Mashburn, frantic to go after Gretchen. Mashburn grabbed me by the wrist. I whirled to face her, my dripping wet ponytail smacking my cheek.
“She’s dead, Ms. Lyons. It’s over two hundred miles to the surface. No one can hold their breath that long.”
“What about the other pods?” I asked. “What if she got to one of them? Could she be running loose around The Oceania?”
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