Jason shuffled over to Sahara and Serhii, knowing they wouldn't want to be awoken by a stranger.
"Sahara—" he said.
"What is it?" she said sleepily.
"Someone's coming."
She shot up and pressed against the tree as if willing it to hide her. Jason slid over to her, letting her know he'd be there for her. Serhii stirred, groaning. He gasped as if in pain and doubled over. Jason wished he'd brought painkillers up with him…
"Someone's here."
"Oh," said Serhii. He struggled to get up; Jason helped him to a sitting position as his body trembled uncontrollably. Jason grasped Serhii's left hand, his other arm braced behind his back.
It turned out to be Jessamine, Javid's assistant. She was short with long, glossy black hair bound up in braids around her head. She gave a little wave and said hi.
"Are you guys okay?"
Do we look okay? Jason almost said. "We need painkiller."
"I'll go get you some." Jess hurried away.
"Serhii—what else do you need?" said Jason. "Do you want to lie back down?"
He shook his head. "If you could get me over to the tree, that'd be great."
Sahara helped Jason support Serhii over to the tree, which he leaned against. Sahara's fear had fled, replaced by concern.
He leaned back rather crookedly. Closed his eyes, breathing hard.
"What about you, Jason?" said Sahara.
"It's not too bad. The worst is my ankle. Rave—" He stopped, not wanting to bring him up for many reasons.
"Rave did this to you?"
"Revenge for… what I did."
She leaned her head in her hand, her fingers buried in her hair.
"It's how I found out they were… going to give you back to him—how I was able to rescue you. So it's totally worth it." He smiled, but she looked more troubled.
"Jason—"
"I'm fine."
"I don't want to dwell on it… but I know how… brutal he can be. I just want to be sure you're okay."
"It's Serhii we have to worry about. He puts a brave face on things… I don't want to know what they've done."
She nodded. "At least we were able to get him to Med—maybe we should get him back there."
"No," said Serhii. "I'd rather not."
Jessamine returned. The deer scattered half-heartedly. A fawn trotted close to the tree and snorted, looking at Jason. Then she pranced away beside a doe. The herd returned to grazing a few feet away.
Jess gave a water bottle and a pill bottle to Serhii, who drank a few pills down desperately. Jess handed Jason and Sahara a water bottle and Jason took some more painkiller too. He realized, though it still hurt, his back felt much better than yesterday; apparently the bare ground was better for his back than the bunk. But then, pretty much everything was….
Jess told them her purpose: she was here to invite them to an agent meeting. "If you're feeling up to it."
"I'd love to!" said Serhii.
"Are you sure?" said Jason.
He handed the painkillers back to Jess; she gestured for him to keep them.
"How strenuous could a meeting be?"
Jess looked rather alarmed but said nothing.
She led them out of the enclosure and down the hallway past the training room, then cut across the office space toward the large black cube.
People disappeared inside, swallowed whole by the opaque surface. Trepidation hit Jason. He didn't know what would happen there. Perhaps it was a trap. Pressure built in his chest, cutting off his air—
Sahara laid a hand on his back, grounding him.
Serhii walked just ahead of them, limping slightly. He stepped inside, his entire being radiating excitement and anticipation. Perhaps he longed to do something that didn't involve pain. Jason didn't blame him.
He hesitated before the doorway; enclosed spaces never agreed with him. This space wasn't that small, but it was crowded.
What could happen? he told himself. Couldn't be much worse than what already has….
Sahara stepped through and he followed her inside. Most of the people were seated, facing the front. There were only a few open spots left in the back.
A few people looked up as he entered; Jason was acutely aware that he was only half-dressed. The agents had seen his scars before, but now he had new wounds, which began to throb and burn as if reawakened by their gazes. Part of him felt that they'd all been watching as he'd hung upside-down in the dungeon—
Face burning, he sat down beside Sahara. How could they possibly accept him as an agent?
Not that I'm going to be an agent here! So I shouldn't care what they think.
At the front, Javid sat on his sleek black desk, shuffling papers. "All right." He stood. "I suppose you're all wondering why I've gathered all of you. Usually we don't invite outsiders to meetings."
Again Jason felt all eyes on him. But then he realized they only glanced at him; they were also looking at Serhii, Sahara, and Elliot, just down the row from them, Gray, a few rows ahead, and Diego, lounging across the aisle, one leg bent horizontally across the other, wearing a long dark coat and fiddling with a sparkly purple pencil.
"We usually wouldn't give you advanced warning either, but for their sakes—I've got to explain a few things about spygames."
The room erupted in excited chatter.
Javid raised a hand, and the murmurs died down instantly.
"This time, the game's a scavenger hunt."
More excited murmurs. He let them die down a little then spoke. "If we've been off the field, we need to keep ourselves sharp. And if we've recently been on the field—we don't want to get rusty. We have to keep the specificities of our tradecraft in mind. Remind ourselves how we can't rely on anything but inner guidepoints. The guests, of course, don't know them—but they can begin to learn them by action and observation. That's why we can't employ a method that's too revealing—restrictions will be part of the challenge. But we will also show how a well-oiled machine works. It'll highlight their shortcomings, which will help them learn what to do and what not to do. Otherwise, no rules. We work as outside the box as possible—which is why we always prevail. No morality or rigid, redundant structures to straightjacket us.
"We'll work in teams with a few wild cards. The only actual rule is—no permanent damage. You know how to calibrate that to your own unique approach. We'll hand out your weapons and form your teams. Then—you're on your own." He gave one of his cryptic, brilliant smiles.
Javid named the members of each team, and they gathered at the door for Jessamine to give them realistic-looking stun-guns and their first clue. Despite himself, a quiver of excitement ran through him. Along with dread. There could be a trick here somewhere….
Finally the only people left were 'outsiders'—Gray, Elliot, Serhii, Sahara, and Jason, as well as Diego, still sitting across the aisle. And Ali, who came up to Jason and handed him a dark blue shirt. Jason quickly put it on over aching shoulders. The satiny fabric was soft against his skin.
"As an Enforcer," said Ali, "I'm sort of an agent, sort of not—so they figured I'd be a good team leader for you guys."
"What about Tamara?" said Jason.
"She has a lot to do, so she's got to delegate."
"Have you played this game before?" said Sahara.
He nodded. "I can make sure you're not totally in the dark. Although spygames are different every time."
"I would think it would be better for spies to work alone," said Gray, standing near the sleek black wall.
"It's best to work as a team during a scavenger hunt; that way, we can bring our different perspectives to figure out clues that might take one person a lot longer. If people train together, they're usually sent into the field together. It's good to get their rapport established long before they're sent out."
"Does that mean we'll be working with you?" said Jason.
"That remains to be seen. They'll gauge our effectiveness. And they'll rate us on potential improvements."
"So this is a test."
"It's a team-building exercise—but it'd be a waste of resources to not observe you."
Ali outlined some of what they could expect during the game. No area inside the compound was off-limits, except for a few restricted places. There could be any from one to one hundred clues. Anyone could drop out at any time, but there would be a penalty, also unspecified. The game could go on for days. Things could get pretty extreme. Once, an agent was put in a coma. Another time, an agent lost an arm.
"I thought there wasn't supposed to be any permanent damage," said Jason.
"Accidents happen."
"So people really take this seriously," said Sahara. "What's the prize?"
"It varies. Sometimes it's cash, sometimes it's gold. Or entitlement to a favor from Elena. Sometimes it's specific to the winner."
"They said something about guidepoints?"
"It's a bit unfair to just throw you into this without any training. Guidepoints are best practices. They're not strictly rules, so they can't be broken. They can be bent or discarded—whatever the situation calls for. That's one of the things we strive for—improvisation. Being hyper-sensitive to the situation so we know the absolute best way to adapt to it. This means we also have to have a vast repertoire of skills suited to our original range of abilities. But we also stretch ourselves to the limit. We don't know our limits until we've gone further than we think we can go."
"It's close to what we learned in our training," said Serhii. "A lot of that was on the job, because we'd never faced such situations before. And you can bet we had to improvise."
"Your skills in the army will come in handy. Everyone brings their own strengths to the table. Even if they aren't quite honed yet."
"Can we access everything full agents can?" asked Elliot.
"Unfortunately not," said Ali. "It's a good thing this is just a game. You're not likely to win."
"Then why play at all?" said Jason.
"Because you have a chance. And it might be fun."
Jason could think of some other reasons to play. For one thing, it gave him more opportunities to explore. And it would also help him get into action mode. Sitting around waiting for more trauma to happen was part of what suppressed his mind, paralyzed him.
"The good thing is," said Ali, "if you're unauthorized, I can access most places around here."
"Can we access weapons?" said Serhii. "Besides the stunguns."
"I don't think so."
"But these stunguns work for us?" said Elliot.
He nodded. "You'd be sitting ducks otherwise. Autoshock's still on though—so don't touch anyone in case their level's on low. "
"Couldn't you take it off?" Jason ventured.
Ali smiled warily at Jason. "No… I can't do that.
"The prize is often in an especially difficult place. Speaking of which—let's get going. We can figure a lot out on the way."
Ali got the clue from Jess. The small strip of paper was covered with letters in no discernible pattern.
Sahara looked at it, leaning against the back of the chair behind the back row. "Something about this looks familiar…"
"Really?" said Serhii.
"If you squint…" She smiled a little sheepishly. "My vision's a little blurry. They… don't give me contacts or glasses here. Usually it's not too bad but… well. In this case it actually helps." She pressed one finger to the paper. "You see?"
They shook their heads.
"It looks like computer code! The larger letters are zeroes… the smaller letters are ones." She sat down on the chair next to the aisle and gradually spelled it out. "Hm…. It says, 'a in a red a'. That doesn't make sense."
They passed the clue around, and none of them came closer to a solution.
Until Ali said, "I think I might know. Only because… I was reading this book last year."
"A book?" said Jason.
"The Scarlet Letter."
There was one way to find out for sure. In the library, it took some time to find the book, because the book cataloguing system had been messed up, apparently for the game. Ali figured it'd probably be in a difficult place, and he had to use a ladder to get it from the reference section between a book about the occult and a parapsychology dictionary.
He slid back down the ladder and laid the book on a table. Flipped it open—and there was a card with a red A on it. He flipped it over. There was nothing on the other side.
At first it looked like the curlicues inside the A could be fancy script, but the 'letters' unraveled as soon as Jason looked at them. He wondered if the blank side could have invisible ink, but that seemed too obvious. Still, it didn't hurt to try.
Elliot found abundant candles in one of the drawers. Serhii lit one and passed the flame over the back of the card. It did nothing but singe it a little.
"Could need a different chemical…" said Ali.
"What about tears?" said Sahara jokingly.
"Couldn't hurt to try," said Ali.
"It'd have to be someone beside me." She picked up the card. "Hm… Maybe it's even more obvious." She held it up. "What does this look like to you?"
"A card," said Elliot.
"The shape and size looks like…"
"An invitation."
"And what are invitations usually for?"
"A party," said Serhii grimly.
Quickly they hid the book and headed to the party room. As they took a shortcut through Above Cathedral, they spotted another team and had to throw them off by going randomly up and down in the elevator for several minutes. Being trapped in such a small space made the walls fade into a blurry silvery mass. He focused on breathing. The world cleared a little; Gray was standing rigidly along the edge, his face pale, biting his lip so hard it bled.
"Gray—"
"I'm fine," Gray snapped. Then a hint of apology crossed his face, along with desperate determination.
Back on the third floor, they dashed furtively down the hallway to the party room. As soon as they stepped inside, music throbbed to life. Strobes flashed in rhythm with the beat of music.
Serhii stepped toward the empty stage as if riveted to afterimages of the past.
Sahara sat on the edge of the fountain furthest from the stage, leaning her head in her hands. She lifted one hand as if to show she wasn't sinking. "I'll probably be useless in here…"
"Well—you got us here, so it's up to us anyway." It made him sick to think of last time he'd been here… what had been done to Sahara, Serhii, so many others…
He strode around the room, his heart in turmoil, trying to wrest himself into enough shape to be of use. It was hard to concentrate with the music and flashing lights. That was probably the point. He tried to turn it off, but Dorian didn't listen to him.
Serhii walked up onstage and stood where he'd been bound.
"What are you doing?" said Jason.
"Got to get back in that moment of fighting—"
Gray was standing with his hand pressed to the wall, his forehead against it.
"Are you alright?" said Jason.
"I think… it's the music."
"What do you hear?"
"A subtle code… just wait—" He closed his eyes. Lifted a hand slowly.
"What is it?"
"Empress of the sun."
His mind jumped to Elena. "That wouldn't be—"
Gray's eyes caught his with pained understanding.
"Nefertiti," said Sahara. She straightened. "Queen of the sun god in ancient Egypt."
"There's a replica in the museum," said Ali.
They headed for the door. Three agents met them, guns raised. Elliot, Gray, and Ali had the presence of mind to whip out their guns; they fell back, writhing, onto the floor.
After the noise of the party room and its echoes of horrors, it felt good to walk into the serenity of the museum.
The Nefertiti replica was sitting on a shelf in the Egyptian section, a ray of false sunlight hitting the gold on her crown.
They sat at the table and examined the sculpture at every angle. Jason felt his mind fading; he was hungry, as he hadn't had any breakfast. Neither had Sahara and Serhii… He suggested it, and they all headed to the vending machine refuge.
The day dragged on and they were no closer to an answer. They tried pressing parts of the sculpture, including in different sequences. They even dumped out a plant and tried immersing it in water.
Throughout the day, something nagged at his subconscious. He couldn't put a finger on it, but he grew more and more unsettled.
At supper, Nefertiti's face looked back at him haughtily, reminding him strikingly of someone he wished he didn't know.
It struck him that perhaps some of his instinct had been right in the beginning: Elena did see herself as a queen… Perhaps she thought of herself as Nefertiti reincarnated.
The idea seemed crazy… at the same time, humiliating. But… he might be the only one who could do this, and he didn't want to let the others down….
He cradled the sculpture in his arms.
Well… it's not as if it's even a living thing, so it means nothing.
It's just that—she engineered this specifically for me….
His face burned as he kissed the sculpture's mouth.
It sprang to life.
He almost dropped it.
A hologram appeared of an almost realistic replica of the ancient queen's face. He set it back on the table, and it morphed into glowing hieroglyphs. He tried to make himself focus, but the symbols blurred in an indistinct mass.
The others focused on interpreting the symbols, giving him space. He felt ashamed and grateful at the same time.
He was rather annoyed he didn't figure it out, as it turned out to be an acronym for "mashed potatoes". They all agreed it was most likely to be found in the cafeteria. Unless it was another code….
The second floor was eerily vacant. Still, déjà vu hit him as he walked down the residential hallway, and he felt an unexpected tug of longing toward Room 22. At least here, he'd had the illusion of independence and could occasionally forget he was "owned" by someone. He hadn't been dragged out of it for random interrogations, and the bed had always had a mattress on it.
Even though the cafeteria was empty, nostalgia spread through him. They could pretend, at least for a little while, that they belonged only to themselves and that the guards weren't watching their every move.
At the counter, they were given several heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. They all sat down at their usual table.
Since he'd eaten not long ago, he wasn't very hungry. He hoped they didn't have to actually eat them, especially since he couldn't rule out being drugged. He burrowed his spork into his mashed potatoes and flattened them. Nothing appeared.
"Maybe we do have to eat them…" said Ali after about half an hour.
"Look," said Elliot. He lifted a tiny chess piece from his potatoes.
They headed to the rec room, where giant chess pieces were set up. They worked together to move the dark pieces against the computer. Or perhaps it was Elena. He didn't want to think how closely she might be involved.
Since Ali was the chess master among them, he directed them. Jason wasn't surprised when they won.
Holographic fireworks burst through the air. The air grew so thick with smoke they could barely see each other.
Jason made his way toward the door, but a soft warm glow filled him, crowding out everything but a vague sense of panic that dissipated before he hit the floor.
Soft cotton beneath him. Above—a night sky pinpointed with stars. A full moon hung over distant mountains. The gently rolling countryside was verged with mist.
His heart thumped hard. Could we be… free?
The ground was springy and soft, but it had a uniformity that didn't make sense…. It didn't feel like grass. Perhaps very soft moss.
The others sat up slowly next to him.
"What is this place?" said Sahara.
"Beautiful," said Serhii, his arms were wrapped around his knees.
Ali stood stiffly. "It must be the Illusionarium."
"What's that?" said Gray. He looked disturbed, as if he wanted to tear away this beauty to the reality beneath.
"A room where advanced AI that anticipates your desires. Work in progress, but… it's learning more every day."
"Sounds like the Imagination Station," said Jason.
"What's that?" said Elliot.
"I'll have to take you there sometime. It's like this—but better."
"Really?" said Sahara. "Is it in Odyssey?"
Jason nodded. "Dad's invention."
"Whose dream is this?" said Gray.
"Whoever pre-programmed it," said Ali. "There must be a clue around here."
They reached the trees, which were rather spongy, but looked realistic. Almost real-time response, a hybrid of hologram and 3-D printing… Even the air smelled vaguely like birch leaves.
Too bad Yavesh doesn't just use this for their twisted fantasies and leave real people alone.
I bet Dad would like to repurpose this for good…
In a flash of light, the sun rose over the mountains. A few moments later, clouds spread overhead with the rumble of thunder. Cold droplets splashed onto Jason's skin. He stepped out of the clearing, hoping the lightning wasn't realistic, inhaling the tang of vibrant air, tasting the rain.
Sunrays burst through the clouds, creating a rainbow in the distance. Serhii strode toward it, still limping a little. They all followed him; the spongy ground was hard to cover quickly, and Jason felt a hint of vertigo. Perhaps this place was spinning to allow the illusion of travel….
Unlike a real rainbow, this one let them reach it. Its iridescent glow spilled onto each of them in turn, and they reveled in red, purple, green….
Buried in the earth was a pot of gold. Elliot helped Serhii lift it.
Sahara dug into the pot; it clinked metallically. Gold dust streamed from her fingers as she lifted out a piece of gold.
The dust rubbed off it, leaving the dull gray of unrefined plastic.
Disappointment filled him that wasn't the prize.
They dug through the pot and found that one of the gold nuggets crumbled to reveal a little figurine of a gun.
They followed him down to the second level beyond the research and development section. To Jason's surprise, Ali was able to get all of them inside.
Massive shelves held boxes of many sizes; workers meandered through the maze; carts whirred past. Jason half-jokingly wondered if the Ark of the Covenant was here.
In the back was another locked area; inside were weapons of all kinds.
Jason's heart ached to grab at least one of them, but Ali had warned them not to touch.
And asking Ali for one was probably out of the question…
Still, there had to be something he could do with this intel…
If only he could just blow this place up and be done with it. He'd risk it if he knew all slaves would be safe.
On a table near the back, Ali popped a sleek steel box open.
There was a gleaming pistol inside.
Jason's heart leaped. He reached for it, wondering if it'd shock him.
His hand closed around its cold surface. It fit as if it were made for him.
He clicked open the cylinder and sure enough, it was loaded.
Four bullets.
I'm not giving this up.
He clicked the cylinder back in place and held the gun close to his heart. It felt like an external piece of it, the part that meant protect at all costs.
He checked the gun for a clue then reluctantly handed it to the others. They checked the case too; nothing.
Ali led them to the shooting range. Jason aimed at the target, imagining it was Elena.
Elegant and svelte without the baby, she was now a totally legitimate target.
Decapitate the organization. Throw it into chaos.
The muffled Bam thudded into his heart. Strength infused him, as if coating his heart with steel.
Still, he was reluctant to let go of the last bullet. What if he needed it? He flipped the gun over, the cold steel already as comfortable as his own skin.
Jason gave Sahara the gun. For some reason it was easier to part with this way.
With the last bullet, the target caught fire. The flaming pieces of paper spelled out "Dare2" Several shreds fluttered to the ground and Elliot picked them up. Looking puzzled, he showed them to the others.
One picture—a scalpel. The other—a coffin.
"We're supposed to choose which dare," said Ali.
"I've had enough of knives…" said Serhii.
"The coffin—is that… what I think it is?" said Jason.
Ali nodded. "Probably."
"I—can't do that again."
"What happens if we choose neither?" said Sahara.
"We lose," said Ali. "Maybe get punished."
"Who would actually be going through with it?" said Elliot. "Would it be all of us?"
"Usually it's one of the group. Unless… it could be different for us. I've… had my suspicions…."
"So she is targeting us."
"Not necessarily. Just that—you're not fully fledged agents. So you're at a disadvantage."
"We might still be ahead of the others," said Serhii. "Unless they're really good at cleaning everything up… including the gun smoke… we were probably the first here."
"We do make a good team," said Ali.
"We wouldn't have made it this far without you," said Jason.
"We could go up and see what's in Med," said Sahara. "Then—choose."
They headed Above. Dread filled Jason… but it was infinitely better than going Beneath.
In the waiting room, Doctor Miller welcomed them. His grin was ominous.
Guards barred the door.
A tightened Jason's throat.
"What do we have to do?" asked Elliot.
"Just go under anesthesia," said Miller. "You won't feel a thing."
"What would you do to us? Is it an operation?" said Sahara.
Miller shrugged. "Even that's up in the air. Like Schrodinger's cat."
They huddled together. "We could just drop out," said Sahara.
"Or…" said Serhii.
"You're not seriously thinking about this."
"At least I'd get some rest…."
"Who knows what he'll do, though," said Jason.
"Choose, or I'll choose for you," said Miller.
"I'll do it," said Gray.
"No, I've already decided—" said Serhii.
"You're injured. So is Jason. You're all in danger. Except me."
"And me," said Ali. "I'm the logical choice."
"You're the leader. We need you. Besides, I haven't helped much so far."
"Yes, you have," said Jason. "Actually—it should be me. The rest of you are disposable to Elena—and she calls the final shots." Jason stepped forward. "What do I do?"
"Come with me," said Miller.
Down the hallway, he passed Farah's room. It was dark.
"Where is she?"
"Another room."
"Is she okay?"
"She's out of the coma."
He was both elated—and devastated. "Is she speaking?"
"Not much. But we'll get there." He ushered Jason into the operating room.
Chills raced down his spine. They didn't stop as he lay face down on the cold bed.
Why am I doing this again?
He tried to sit up, but nurses appeared out of nowhere and held him down as Miller jabbed his arm with a needle.
Waves of darkness crashed over him.
He woke up on a blue and mauve floor.
He shot up. His mind still foggy, he looked around.
He was in an elevator.
He knelt; his head spun. He leaned over, forehead against the carpet.
Panic burst through his chest.
This is as bad as the coffin—
No, it's not. Maybe there's a way out.
He forced himself to his feet.
He'd never seen four floors on an elevator here before. The structure of the elevator looked familiar, though.
He pressed the buttons, including emergency. The elevator continued without acknowledging him.
He felt a bit weird talking to the enemy AI. But it was all he had. "Dorian?"
"Yes, Jason."
"Please, stop."
It halted. Then with a gentle shift it began moving downward.
"Take me to the ground floor."
"Of course, sir," said Dorian, and the elevator lifted again.
Could it be that easy?
No… of course not…
Still, his heart surged with anticipation. Thrills raced over his skin.
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
A vivid blue sky… wildflowers bursting across a broad prairie… A hint of willows in the distance….
He stepped out, leaving the metallic cell behind.