“You kidnapped Denver. What did you expect? And what on earth did you expect me to do? Hold your hand all the way to Gulaga?”
“I’ve come to escort you to the headquarters of the Resistance, and you’re going to come with me whether you like it or not!”
I stop backpedaling, and instead march right up to Regis. “Are you threatening me?”
He lunges forward, stopping just inches from my face. “What if I am?”
I keep my voice low and level. “I’d say, I’m right. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Regis deflates. He takes a step back. His face is red, and he won’t look at me. “I’m going back to the labs,” he whispers. “Please think about this, Jasper. The Resistance needs you. I don’t want to be the one who prevents that.”
Instead of responding, I turn around and head up the mountain. My muscles are tense, like they’re bracing for impact. I’m half convinced Regis is going to plow up the path and tackle me. That’s definitely what the old Regis would do.
I can’t believe the Resistance is entrusting such an important mission to Regis. First the attack gone wrong at the rally, and now this? I almost died because of Regis and my mom almost died because of the Resistance. Why did I go AWOL to help a bunch of rebels who are just as bad as Earth Force, maybe even worse?
As I climb, the sounds of the forest soon replace the heavy fall of Regis’s shoes on the path. Up ahead, a bird whistles—three shrill calls. His mate answers from the left, high in the trees. Every few steps, the brush stirs as a critter scurries to get out of my way.
I want to stay mad, but the calmness of the forest seeps in and relaxes me. I love this place. There aren’t many spots left on Earth where you can simply be in harmony with the natural world.
That’s why Earth is so obsessed with the Paleo Planet. It reminds us what our planet used to be like. Of course, we’re stripping the nature away there as well. They’ve probably even amped up the occludium mining operations since the Resistance ousted Earth Force from Gulaga.
I can’t believe Gedney expects me to travel there with Regis. He knows our history. It’s not fair to even ask me to go with him.
Still, what if what Regis said about genetics is true? Could his “behavioral issues,” as Jayne called them, be due to his Bounder genes? If so, is it fair to hold him solely accountable? And what if it’s possible that he’s changed?
I shake the thoughts from my head. I am not going to Gulaga with Regis.
For the rest of the climb, I push myself hard. I focus on the burn in my muscles and the strain in my lungs as I climb higher up the mountain. With every step, I get farther away from everything weighing me down and holding me back.
The forest starts to fade and rocks dot the landscape. Soon I emerge on the ridge where my pod mates and I ate lunch when we reunited here before our second tour of duty.
I hunt around until I spot the cairn we built. The tower of rocks still stands, memorializing the strength of our pod. I can almost hear our voices ring out.
It’s all about the pod.
So much has changed.
How did things break apart?
Can we ever come back together?
• • •
I pound on the laboratory door until Gedney finally hobbles into view.
“Patience, patience, my boy,” he says, pulling back the door. “You’ll wake the whole compound.”
I put my palm against the door and push. It flies open and slams into the wall. “I thought you were all about hurry, hurry, hurry.”
Gedney turns around and slowly makes his way to the other side of the laboratory—past the glass aquariums filled with Youli appendages and various other alien body parts used to develop stolen biotechnology. I follow Gedney to the small alcove in the back of the lab, where a metal table is pushed against a side wall. On the opposite wall is Waters’s desk. On top of the desk is the glass orb—now empty—that used to store the Youli brain patches Waters implanted in me and Mira.
Gedney drags a rolling desk chair to the metal table and gestures to a nearby stepladder, presumably suggesting I sit.
I don’t.
“I can see you’re upset,” he says.
“To put it mildly.”
“Good news, son. We were able to confirm that your mother is doing well. She’s already home from the hospital.”
Something inside of me unclenches, and I let out a deep breath.
Gedney points again at the stepladder. “Please.”
I sit down and immediately regret it. He’s already managed to bend me to his will. I’m sure in his mind he’s only a few moves away from getting me to agree to go with Regis.
Gedney folds his hands in his lap. “What’s on your mind, Jasper?”
“You lied to me.”
“I did not.”
“You told us you got Regis kicked out of the Academy. Meanwhile, you’d already recruited him for your secret work with the Resistance. How is that not lying?”
“That’s exactly what I did,” Gedney says calmly, “and I never lied to you about it.”
I spring up from the stepladder. “Don’t try to trip me up on technicalities! How could you do this? You knew what Regis did to me and Mira!”
Gedney steeples his fingers. “I will always put the interests of the Bounders first. Regis is a Bounder.”
“And a psychopathic would-be killer.”
“I don’t see it that way. Yes, Regis has a history of violence, but isn’t that partially Earth Force’s fault? We reintroduced the Bounder genes without any support despite knowing that they brought along challenges as well as strengths. If we had intervened with Regis when he young, he may have learned to express his passions in other ways.”
“His passions? You sound like he likes to paint or collects vintage comic books! Plotting my death is not a passion!”
Gedney locks his eyes with mine. “I do not excuse Regis’s behavior, Jasper, but I do believe in him as a member of the Resistance. People can change. Do you not feel you’ve changed since entering the Academy?”
Here he goes again, trying to outwit me, and it’s working. Lucy’s words ring in my mind. All you wanted, Jasper, was to be popular. I’ve tried to convince myself that Lucy was wrong. But what if she wasn’t? Maybe that’s exactly who I was when I arrived at the Academy. If I’ve changed for the better, could Regis?
It doesn’t matter. “I could never trust him.”
“Never is an extreme word, but I didn’t ask you to trust him. I asked you to go with him to Gulaga. Trust . . . well, that’s something for another day. Maybe Regis will prove himself to you and you’ll come to trust him.”
I laugh. That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time, ten times funnier than Florine Statton and the tofu strings. Anyone who thinks I might come to trust Regis is out of their mind.
“Will you go with him?” Gedney asks.
I don’t answer.
Gedney spins his chair and withdraws a tablet from a file under the table. “That’s why you came down here, isn’t it? To help make up your mind?” He sets the tablet on the table.
I sit back down on the stepladder. “Can’t I go without him?”
“No. Regis has made this trip before, and he knows what to do. You don’t. And you certainly don’t while smuggling an unwilling hostage.”
“Denver.”
Gedney nods and turns back to face me. “Jasper, I’ve said this already. You’re critical not only to the Resistance, but to the bigger picture—the movement for peace. For starters, we’re going to need Denver’s cooperation, and you’re the only one who’s spent time with him since he escaped the rift. I’m sure your presence will go some distance in ensuring Denver’s reunion with Jon isn’t a total disaster.”
“Denver knows Waters?”
“Of course. The last time they saw each other, they weren’t on the best of terms. I’ll leave that for you to hear directly from the two of them.”
My gaze is drawn back t
o the glass orb on Waters’s desk. I wasn’t on the best of terms with Waters when I saw him last either, and now I’m considering joining him in the Resistance. Maybe this whole thing is a bad idea.
“I knew this would be difficult for you, Jasper,” Gedney says, “so I enlisted help to convince you.” He glides his finger across the tablet. A projection flashes in the air above and then crystallizes around an image of my sister.
“Addy?” I lean forward, trying to get a better view, but the image quality is pretty poor. Even so, I can see that Addy looks different, older. “When was this filmed?”
“Earlier today. We took a great risk with the transmission.” He presses the play icon and Addy jumps to life.
“Jasper!” Addy raises her hand to the camera, almost like she can touch me across the stars. “I’m so relieved you’re alive! After what happened on Alkalinia, I thought I’d never see you again!” She glances to the side, then bites her lip and nods. Someone outside the camera angle must be giving her directions. She leans closer to the lens. “Jasper, I don’t have much time. Just please do as Gedney says and come here right away! We need you. I need you. I love you, J! I’ll see you real soon!” She lifts her hand again, and the image freezes.
My eyes fill with tears that struggle to escape. Even though I’d been assured that Addy was alive, that she’d survived the Battle of the Alkalinian Seat, I’d never felt 100 percent sure until this very moment. Her message had to have been recorded earlier today, otherwise it wouldn’t make any sense. I raise my palm to the projection and hold it against my sister’s frozen fingers.
Addy is alive.
She needs me.
And I promised Mom I’d find her.
Okay, Gedney, you win.
“Fine . . . I’ll go.”
22
REGIS, DENVER, AND I STAND side by side in the hangar, staring at the small crate.
“You can’t be serious,” Denver says.
“I’m not excited about it, either,” Regis says, “but we have no choice and very little time, so shut your mouth and climb in.”
The crate is roughly a meter and a half square on the bottom, and not nearly as high. The three of us won’t even be able to sit up straight once we’re inside. How on earth will we make it all the way to the space port in that?
This morning at the compound, Gedney laid out the plan as we ate breakfast. The pilot, who doubled as a Resistance operative, would pick us up in the helicopter and transport us to a seldom-used freight hangar at the nearby Earth Force base. From there, he’d smuggle us onto a cargo craft bound for the Nos Redna Space Port and hide us inside a large crate (they consider this crate large?). Once at the space port, we’re supposed to meet up with another Resistance agent who will transport us the rest of the way to Gulaga.
“I thought Gedney said there’d be food,” I say, not that I’m hungry. In fact, I’m worried my breakfast might make a reappearance the second we’re sealed into the crate. I’m just trying to stall.
Regis points at a duffel bag by his feet. “There are the supplies.”
“The crate’s not even big enough for us and our blast packs!” I say. “Where are we supposed to put that duffel?”
Regis glares at me. “You’re worse than Denver. Both of you, get in!”
“Not unless you make me, tough guy,” Denver says, “which really means, not unless you make us.” He lifts his right hand, taking my left along for the ride, and shakes it at Regis.
This morning, when Gedney cuffed Denver to me, I protested. Even if Denver is a flight risk, he’s not my problem. He’s not my prisoner. Gedney wasn’t interested in my opinion. Apparently, Denver couldn’t be cuffed to Regis because Regis needs his hands free in case he needs to use his gun.
That’s right. I’m traveling in confined quarters with Regis, who is armed, while I’m handcuffed to an unwilling captive. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Denver says to Regis, who’s getting angrier by the millisecond. “You just talk tough.”
Regis balls his fists as his face turns from pink to pinker to bright, flaming red. Then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His mouth forms words, though no sounds come out. He’s counting to ten, one of his calm-down strategies courtesy of Gedney.
Denver laughs. “Keep counting. You’re a ticking time bomb.”
Regis’s eyes fly open, and he jumps forward, shoving Denver in the chest. My arm jerks back as Denver falls to the hangar floor. I land on top of him. Regis knocks me off and sticks the gun in Denver’s face. Denver keeps right on laughing.
I glance at my watch. If what Regis said before is true, we only have a few minutes before the pilot comes back with the crew to load the craft. If I’m going to see Addy, I need to get in that crate now.
“Stop letting him provoke you,” I say to Regis as I push myself to my knees and yank Denver by the cuff. “Let’s go.”
Denver doesn’t give me too much of a fight, not with Regis’s gun now jabbed between his shoulder blades. We haul ourselves up on the loading rack and climb into the crate. I swing my blast pack off my free arm and sink down. There’s just enough room for me to sit with my knees bent. Once the lid is on, I’ll have to duck my head.
Regis tosses in the duffel then climbs in next to me. There is literally no room between us. We’re packed like sardines.
Great. I’m sandwiched between Regis and Denver for the entire trip. This is going to be the longest few hours of my life.
Technically, I guess my hours in the rift were the longest in my life—a whole year long—but something tells me this trip will feel even longer.
A moment later, we hear footsteps, then the pilot’s head appears over the crate. “All set?” he whispers. “Nighty-night.”
He slides the lid over the crate, leaving us in almost total darkness. The only light comes from four slits carved into the corners, our source of fresh air for the journey. Next, a drill buzzes. He’s sealing us in.
My breath comes fast. I’m not good in small places. The tight walls of the crate get even tighter, like they’re going to flatten me into a pancake. I close my eyes, but all I can feel is the sensation of being suffocated. I’m back on Alkalinia with a gazillion gallons of water pressing down on me.
I. Can’t. Breathe.
“Settle down, kid,” Denver whispers. “You’ve got to stop hyperventilating. It’s going to be a long ride. Take a tip from your friend here and try some deep breaths.”
“Shut up,” Regis says.
“He’s not my friend,” I say between gasps for air.
“Seriously, shut up, both of you,” Regis says. “Don’t make a sound until we take off. We can’t risk anyone in the crew hearing us.”
I focus on slowing my breath and try to send my mind to a different place. Just yesterday I ran through the field of wild flowers where Mira and I lay side by side and counted stars before leaving for Gulaga. I relax my mind and go back to that field. I see the vast sky dotted with tiny pinpricks of light. I hear the insects buzzing between blades of grass. I feel Mira’s long fingers weaving with my own.
The crate jerks, and I slide into Regis, even though I didn’t know there was any room left to slide. The crate is at an incline; we must be on a loading belt. Once we level out, we’re hefted into the air and jostled. When we’re set down, I assume it’s for good, but then the crate is shoved even deeper into the craft. We must be flush against some other crates, because the small amount of light we have is dimmed in two corners.
“Do you think they blocked the air slits?” I whisper. “If we can’t breathe, we’re goners.”
“Shhh!” Regis says. “You’re fine! Keep dreaming about Magic Mira and be quiet.”
I clench my fists and bite down on my lip. I want to rail at Regis, but he’s right that we need to be quiet. I can’t believe he guessed (correctly) that I was thinking about Mira. I can’t give him an excuse to say anything more about her. If he does, Denver’s bound to a
sk questions about Mira and how she came to leave the rift with the Youli, a topic I’ve somehow managed to avoid with him so far.
We’re quiet for a long time. At first, I’m convinced we’re running out of air, but then I forget to worry about it, and I’m still breathing, so I guess it’s not a problem. But what is a problem: the heat. It’s getting hotter by the second. And it stinks. I don’t know what this crate is typically used for, but it smells like old cheese. I try to breathe out of my mouth, but that’s worse. I can still smell cheese, only now I can pretty much taste it, too.
If I could just move around, I might be able to take my mind off the smell and the sweat that’s pooling in every crease of my skin. But there’s nowhere to go. I shift my legs. Denver shoves my shin. My legs fall the other way. Regis knocks my knees with his own. I keep my eyes closed and try not to think about the absolutely horrible, utterly unfathomable situation I’m in.
Why on earth did I agree to do this?
We haven’t even left the ground, and I’m losing it.
A loud noise sounds, and the light in the crate dims even more.
“They’ve sealed the door,” Regis says. “We’re probably about to leave.”
“Thanks for that nugget of wisdom,” Denver says. “We never would have guessed.”
“Regis is super smart like that,” I say.
Regis elbows me in the rib cage.
“Ow!” I shove him back.
He elbows me again.
Denver slaps my forehead with his cuff-free hand. “Stop it! Both of you! The only thing worse than being locked in this crate for a whole day is being locked in here with you two!”
“You don’t need to tell me.” My forehead stings, but not enough to distract me from the foul cheese smell.
“Apparently, I do, kid, because you and your pal keep making things even more unbearable.”
“I told you, he’s not my pal,” I say.
“Fine, whatever you say. There’s obviously history between you. What’s all the bad blood?”
“Regis tried to kill me,” I answer matter-of-factly.
The Heroes Return Page 18