Michael Vey 7

by Richard Paul Evans

  “Captain Shool,” Hatch said, stepping forward. “Welcome to the Hatch Islands.”

  The captain saluted. “Admiral Hatch. It’s an honor.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Captain. You have our prisoners?”

  “Seventeen of them, Admiral. Including the one you call Welch.”

  Hatch smiled. “Congratulations, Captain, on a well-executed operation. Such competency will not go unrecognized. I will see to it that President Bautista is informed of your success.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Where are your prisoners now?”

  “They’re still in the brig awaiting your orders.”

  “Very well. Have Welch brought to me immediately. In chains, of course.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Captain Shool turned to one of his guards and spoke quickly in his native tongue. The guard ran back up the gangplank into the boat.

  “It seems that all went well with the capture of the mutineers.”

  “Yes. The machines you gave us were quite remarkable. They paralyzed all of the youths except one.”

  Hatch looked at him. “Which one?”

  “There was a young Fijian woman who was the ship’s cook.”

  “How many teens did you capture?” Hatch asked.

  “Twelve.”

  “Twelve,” Hatch repeated. “I guess they didn’t all make it off of Hades, then.”

  At that moment two burly, heavily armed Filipino soldiers walked down the plank, escorting Welch between them. Hatch looked up at him with a grim smile. “There he is.”

  “The one you call Welch,” Shool said.

  “Traitor Welch,” Hatch said.

  The soldiers dragged their prisoner in front of Hatch.

  “So the prodigal returns,” Hatch said.

  “Not by choice,” Welch said.

  “I expect not. What traitor wants to be held accountable for his cowardice?”

  “One man’s traitor is another man’s hero.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Welch. You’re no one’s hero.” He looked him over. “You’ve looked better. You didn’t really think you could escape, did you?”

  “I didn’t think we could decimate your army either, but we did, didn’t we?”

  Hatch sneered. “Michael Vey did. And, frankly, it was worth the loss just to be through with him.” Hatch turned to EGG Amon. “Take your former colleague and lock him up in Cell 25.”

  Welch looked at Hatch and said, “You’re not going to win.”

  Hatch smiled. “I already have, David.” He turned to Amon. “Take the traitor away.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  “What would you like done with the others?” Shool asked.

  “The Glows,” Hatch said. “Put them under full guard, and EGG Bowen will lead you to the prison. We’ll hold them until they stand trial.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  Shool again issued an order to his men, then turned back to Hatch. “Should we deactivate the machines you gave us?”

  “The RESATs? No! Never turn off those machines!”

  The captain was taken back the intensity of Hatch’s reaction. “As you wish, Admiral.”

  “You don’t understand,” Hatch said. “If you turn off the RESATs, you’ll have a much bigger problem than you could ever imagine.”

  Shool looked unimpressed. “They’re just teens, Admiral.”

  “No, Captain. They’re not ‘just’ anything. You have no idea what you’re holding in your brig. Had you attempted to take those ‘teens’ without the machines I provided you, they would have taken you and your ships.”

  The captain looked at Hatch cynically. “You hold us in contempt, sir. My soldiers are decorated, well-trained fighting men of the highest caliber.”

  “I meant no disrespect, Captain. I’m sure your men are the elite of your navy. You just don’t know what you don’t know. These youths are not ordinary humans. They are a science experiment gone awry. In the last week those youths have killed more than four thousand of my men and wiped out the whole of my navy.”

  Shool looked at him with amazement. “I had no idea, Admiral. Why was I not informed of this danger?”

  “If you have to walk a tightrope without a net, it’s better not to know how high up you are, if you know what I mean. What about the Joule’s crew, COB Quinn and his men?”

  “They’re being held in the brig as well. Would you like me to release them?”

  “You’ll release them to ZC Denkers,” Hatch said. He signaled for the Zone Captain. “Denkers, Captain Shool will be releasing the COB and his men into your custody. Take them to the bowl and have the crew prepare them for dinner.”

  “Yes, sir,” Denkers said.

  From Hatch’s order the captain assumed the Elgen COB and his men would be guests at the dinner, not be the meal.

  Hatch turned back to the captain. “Please, come inside and avail yourself of my hospitality. We have an officers’ club that has no parallel in this part of the world—companionship and the finest European food and drink, including some of your local favorites—coconut wine, Tondenia premium rum, and San Miguel for your men—as well as a few imported specialties. Have you ever tasted Karuizawa, Captain?”

  The captain almost laughed. “The Japanese whiskey? No, sir. That’s a bit above my pay grade.”

  “At forty-thousand dollars a bottle, I would think so,” Hatch said. “Or the officers of the Philippine Navy would be the envy of the world. I have a lovely forty-eight-year-old bottle in my office that you and I will open tonight to celebrate your success. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Admiral, for your kindness. I will look forward to seeing you tonight.”

  Hatch started to walk away, then suddenly stopped and turned back. “Captain, have you ever seen how a Starxource plant operates?”

  “No, sir. It is my understanding that the operation is top secret.”

  “Yes. But you, of course, have top secret clearance. Tonight you will get a rare view of what few have ever seen. Trust me, you’ll never forget it.” With that Hatch turned and walked away.

  PART FOURTEEN

  33

  The Dinner Jacket

  Welch had never been more than a few feet inside Cell 25, but he knew enough about it to fear it. He never imagined he would someday occupy it. The infamous cell was designed to bring its occupant the maximum amount of stress, fear, and pain. Hatch sometimes used Tara to create an added dimension of terror, but even without her contributions it was horrible. He wondered how long he would be able to endure it.

  * * *

  While Welch was locked away by Amon and three guards, the Electroclan was taken to the dungeon with the RESATs strapped to their chests and their hands chained behind their backs.

  In spite of Hatch’s orders to keep the youths separated, there weren’t enough cells to give everyone his or her own, so McKenna and Cassy were kept in the same cell, as were Zeus and Torstyn. Once in the cells, their chains were removed but the RESATs were only turned down, not enough for them to use their powers, but enough to allow some relief from the overwhelming pain that made it difficult to breath and kept their hearts pounding at more than a hundred and fifty beats a minute.

  Cassy was the only one who had never been inside a Starxource plant. About ten minutes after being locked in the cell, she said, “At least there’s food.” On a side table extending from the wall was Rabisk. Cassy picked up a biscuit.

  “I wouldn’t eat that,” McKenna said.

  “What is it? And what are these little fibers covering it?”

  “It’s Rabisk.”

  “What’s Rabisk?”

  “It’s what they feed the rats. It’s made of ground-up rats. Those fibers are rat hair.”

  Cassy dropped the biscuit, almost throwing up. After a moment she asked, “Do you think they’re going to feed us to the rats?”

  “Don’t think about that,” McKenna said
.

  “Where do you think Jack and Ostin are?”

  McKenna spun around. “Shhh! They’re listening.”

  Cassy looked around the room, then said, softly, “Sorry. This is new to me.”

  McKenna walked over to Cassy and put her mouth up to her ear. “They’re probably making a plan to save us.”

  McKenna had barely finished whispering when from each corner of the room came an audio blast as loud as the horn of a diesel truck, loud enough to almost knock them over. It was followed by a voice from the overhead speakers. “Prisoners of Cell 17. No talking is allowed. Stay away from each other or you will be punished.”

  McKenna stepped back. “Like we’re not already being punished?”

  The horn blasted again, followed by a sharp pulse in the RESAT, dropping both girls to their knees.

  “Enough already!” Cassy shouted. “We get it!”

  * * *

  Out of all of the surviving Electroclan, Taylor was the least affected by the capture. She had already hit her emotional bottom, and she no longer cared what happened to her. She had lost Michael and with him all hope in their cause. She didn’t know if her parents or brothers were still alive, and if they were, she assumed that Hatch would find them all and kill them. It wasn’t a question of if, only when. No matter what Hatch did to her, she was already broken. Not even the rat bowl held any terror, as there was simply no more pain she could add to what she already felt. As she lay back on the cell’s hard mattress, she heard someone call her.

  “Taylor.”

  She looked over. Michael was standing near the door. Or, at least, what seemed like a projection of Michael, since the image quivered and shimmered in places.

  “You’re not really here . . . ,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I know you’re not really here.” She buried her face in her hands.

  “It’s not over, Taylor. Don’t lose hope.”

  Taylor looked up, expecting the image to be gone. Instead Michael was just staring at her.

  “Why are you tormenting me like this?” she screamed.

  The vision faded.

  Taylor rubbed her eyes again as she lay back on the mattress. “I really am going crazy.”

  * * *

  The youths had been locked up for about seven hours when an alarm went off in the cells, followed by a voice coming from the ceiling speakers.

  “Enemies of Hatch Islands. Prepare for transport. Elgen guards will be at your rooms shortly. Stay away from the doors or you will be punished.” The message was followed by a sharp increase in the RESATs’ amp, dropping all of the youths to their knees. Within a few minutes, two guards appeared at each cell, walking them to an electric cart and driving them to a separate part of the building, the curved observatory deck above the bowl. It was the same room where Prime Minister Saluni had been humiliated and dragged away as the rest of the Tuvaluan government learned of Hatch’s plans to take their country. The bowl was closed off by a metal screen, leaving the room lit by stark, overhead blue and white LED lighting. There were several long tables set with china, crystal, and silverware in preparation for the evening’s feast in honor of Captain Shool.

  Cassy, who had been separated from McKenna, was the last to arrive. Everyone else was already kneeling on the floor, their hands cuffed behind their backs and chained to a ring on the floor.

  Cassy was brought over to the last vacant spot, a space between Quentin and Nichelle, and locked down. After the guard stepped away, she looked over at the set tables, then asked Nichelle, “Hatch is having us for dinner?”

  “Be careful how you ask that,” Nichelle said.

  “Hatch has lost his mind,” Quentin said. “Word was he was planning to eat Michael when he caught him.”

  “He’s crazy,” Cassy said.

  “Yeah. He is,” Nichelle replied.

  “How did you guys live with him all those years?” Cassy asked.

  “When you’re raised in an asylum, crazy is normal,” Quentin replied.

  Cassy frowned as she looked around the room. It seemed nicer than the other parts of the plant she had been exposed to. It was less industrial. There was padded carpet. The walls were paneled in stained wood, and bronze light fixtures provided soft illumination. “Where are we?”

  “We’re next to the bowl,” Quentin said.

  “The bowl,” Cassy repeated. She had only heard of the bowl. Still, the very mention of it made her shudder.

  “Are they going to feed us to the rats now?”

  “No. They don’t feed from here,” Quentin said. “This is where you watch the rats feed.”

  A light alarm beeped and the massive wall divide began to move. As the two parts separated, the light from the bowl flooded the room in brilliant, oscillating orange hues. Within less than a minute the walls had completely parted, exposing a broad panoramic view of the rat bowl. The rats glowed crimson and orange. They were being moved by the continual sweep.

  Cassy looked at the scene with awe. “Oh . . .”

  “That’s the bowl,” Quentin said to her. “That’s where the rats produce electricity. You should see it when they’re about to feed.”

  “It’s hideous,” Nichelle said.

  Cassy just stared. “It’s strangely beautiful.”

  “Only from this side of the glass,” Quentin said.

  Suddenly a voice filled the room. “My Glows, my Glows.” Everyone except Cassy recognized the voice coming from a speaker near the center of the room. It was Dr. Hatch. “Welcome back to Elgenland.”

  “You’re psychotic!” Torstyn shouted.

  “Considering your present circumstance, Torstyn, you should be more careful with your tongue, unless you’d like to lose it. But I digress. You of the Electroclan cult caused quite a mess of things the last time you were here. You murdered thousands of my men. I’m sure you weren’t planning to be back so soon. But make no mistake, you will be spending the rest of your lives here. How long the rest of your lives are, and the quality of those lives, depends solely on how well you cooperate with my instructions.

  “Which leads to why I had you brought to the bowl. The reason is simple. Motivation. At the end of the week, one of you, along with former EGG Welch, will be fed to the rats. I have not yet selected which one of you it will be. You’re all so special that it’s going to be difficult choosing just one of you, but if any of you wish to help sway me with your defiance, it will certainly be appreciated.”

  The youths glanced back and forth at one another. Suddenly an alarm sounded from inside the glass. A chute, almost twelve feet wide, slowly began protruding from the wall. It continued to extend to more than thirty feet, then abruptly stopped. Slowly it began to lower until it was just six feet above the bowl’s floor. Immediately the rats swarmed beneath it, the brilliance of their coats growing into bright orange and yellow until they glowed like molten lava.

  “They’re about to feed,” Quentin said softly.

  Hatch continued. “I would like to use this demonstration to remind you all what’s at stake. For those who have witnessed this before, forgive the redundancy, but when it comes to teaching, a refresher never hurts. Personally, I never tire of watching them feed. Please, your attention to the bowl.”

  An amber light began flashing as a door at the mouth of the chute began to open.

  “What do you see, Ian?” Quentin asked, forgetting that the RESATs that took away their powers had taken away Ian’s sight.

  “I don’t see anything,” Ian said. “I’m blind.”

  “Sorry, man,” Quentin said. “I forgot.”

  Something slowly emerged from the door. It took a moment for Cassy to understand what she was seeing. “They’re feet,” Cassy said. “Human feet.”

  “Indeed, young lady,” Hatch said. “When your compadre, Vey, decided to go all supernova on us, his flash blinded most of my guards. Fortunately, I was wearing my protective glasses.”

  “Shame,” Torstyn said.

  “A second mark on Torstyn,” H
atch said. “Congratulations, Torstyn. You are now well in the lead in the race to the rat bowl.”

  “I was already scheduled for your bowl, you nutcase.”

  “Oh, I’m going to enjoy watching those little beasts rip the flesh from your bones, Torstyn. But as I was saying. Nearly all of my personal guards were blinded by the flash. Unfortunately. A blind Elgen guard is about as useful as an armless boxer. Of course, being loyal Elgen, they apologized for their state and promised that they would do whatever they could for our cause. I assured them that, in spite of their situation, they could still provide some benefit. They were genuinely excited about that prospect. You are about to see a few of those men give their all.”

  The body began to move out of the door until it was entirely on the chute. The man was alive, bound at the ankles and knees, with his arms tied against his waist and chest.

  “You’ve got to admit this is pretty cool,” Hatch said. “Look at those rats scurrying to feed. Of course there’s really no way that we could ever know what their favorite food is, but from the increase in their excitement and subsequent electrical output, it’s pretty clear that they prefer fresh meat over Rabisk. They certainly do look excited, don’t they? The rats, that is. The human doesn’t look like he’s having as much fun.”

  “You’re sick!” Abigail shouted.

  “Be quiet,” McKenna said to her.

  “We hear from the gentle Abigail. Torstyn, you have some competition. But with your fiery temper, you’re up to the challenge.”

  Torstyn clenched his jaw but said nothing.

  As the conveyor lowered, the rats gathered more closely together in anticipation, until they formed a large hill of rat, with those on the top jumping for the belt.

  As the man slid down the chute, he continued to struggle against the straps that held him. Then, as his feet extended over the edge of the chute, the first of the rats, in a wild frenzy, flew at him. Within seconds they were swarming around him as he screamed in pain.

  “You’re lucky you get to see this in person,” Hatch said. “I could put it on YouTube and get a billion views.”

  Within two minutes the man’s rib cage was exposed as the rats ate his internal organs.