Read Across Page 17


  Chapter Seventeen:

  Max’s grip on her hand was firm as he led her through a maze of passageways. The hallways winded back and forth, up and down, curving around till Marie was hopelessly lost. The corridors, at first crowded with laewins, soon emptied, and all Marie could hear were her own panting breaths and the slapping of feet against stone. Max dragged her up a small staircase, and the passageway plunged into darkness. Marie gasped, grabbing Max’s arm.

  “I can’t tell where we’re going!” she cried.

  Max twisted around, wrapped his arms around hers, and guided her up the remaining stone steps and into the winding corridor. Marie’s heart raced inside her as Max dragged her left then right then left, right, right, left…If Max left her, she would be hopelessly lost. The thought made her heart race.

  Marie heard the faint tinkling of water, and her hand brushed against wet stone. Where were they? Something scaly brushed her ankle, and Marie shrieked and shrunk against Max.

  “What was that?”

  Max pulled her forward. She could hear something scratching the walls, and her grip on Max’s hand tightened so much she was sure it would leave a bruise. At last the scratching sound faded, only to be replaced by another, much more frightening sound.

  “Really, Darius, I think we should proceed anyway. Ferguson has always been incompetent—”

  “Exactly, Pamela, which is why we shouldn’t rush into anything…”

  Marie shrunk against Max, her heart thundering inside her. Her throat closed up in fear. Why were Darius and Pamela using the laewin corridors? It sounded like they were right next to them!

  Max tugged her, but Marie stood frozen, too frightened to move. He tugged more insistently, and Marie let out a surprised squeak.

  Pamela and Darius didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’m telling you, we should send someone down there to see what he’s up to…” Their voices faded, and Marie heard a door slam shut.

  “What?” Marie murmured in confusion. She suddenly twisted out of Max’s grasp and touched the wall of the corridor. The wall between the corridor and the suite was not made of stone. It felt grainy, like some sort of plaster, which would explain why Pamela and Darius had sounded like they were right next to Marie. “Extraordinary,” she breathed. Marie’s mind spun. They had spying on them! Spying on them!

  Max’s hand found her arm, and he pulled her forward. She allowed him to lead her, little snippets of conversation obscuring the sound of their footfalls.

  “Barnabas is getting ready to head down there now…”

  “What a wreck. How are we supposed to explain this to…”

  “I don’t care what you think, Dr. Pepper is superior to Coke any day of the week…”

  At last Max stopped and let go of her. He tinkered with something in front of him, and light flooded the tunnel. Marie squinted, peering over her shoulder, her heart pounding. He led her into a sitting room. It looked like a room that had once been abandoned but was now in use. Dust covered much of the furniture, but a large section of thick carpet between the hallway door and the bedroom door had recently been disturbed.

  Marie turned to Max, but he had already crossed the room and stood in front of the bedroom door, his hand on the handle. Marie approached him and stared up at his face, her heart twisting. She wished the blindfold didn’t cover his eyes. She figured that, even blind, she would have gotten some sense of whether or not to trust him from staring into his eyes. At last she swallowed and leaned close to the door. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She felt like her heart might explode out of her chest.

  She heard someone pacing inside.

  She looked up. Max had pressed his lips into thin lines. She reached for his hand, brought his fingers to her lips, and whispered, “Thank you for everything. Please wait for me in my room.”

  Max inclined his head, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the passageway from which they had come. She hesitated a few minutes, her heart pounding, before opening the door and entering.

  Cristaña was chained to the bed. Specifically, she was chained to the bedpost by her right wrist, which afforded her only a small area in which to walk. She looked up when Marie entered. Her face showed her surprise.

  Marie’s face probably showed more. Cristaña looked terrible. Her skin hung in bags off her face. Her normally neat hair was dirty and mussed. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood, and little lacerations crisscrossed her entire body. She held herself stiffly, as though it hurt to move her chest.

  Marie’s hands flew over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh, Cristaña,” she breathed. “What did they do to you?”

  “What are you doing here?” demanded Cristaña. She struggled to stand straight.

  Marie felt like she was going to be sick. “I…” A particularly large gash mutilated Cristaña’s left thigh. She felt bile rise in her throat.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Marie forced her eyes to Cristaña’s face. Her voice was shaky. “I need to know why Barnabas Morton wants to kill me.”

  Dead silence fell. Cristaña stared at her.

  Marie licked her lips. Her heart was pounding inside of her. “He is trying to kill me. I know it. Don’t deny it.”

  Cristaña slowly turned away from her. She stared blankly at the rest of the room. Marie felt like she waited for a response for forever. Her fists clenched and unclenched in anticipation. At last Cristaña said, in a dead voice, “Barnabas Morton is trying to kill you because you are not a part of the plan.”

  “What plan?” Marie demanded immediately.

  Cristaña snorted. “SpiritStar’s grand plan, of course. What—you think SpiritStar didn’t have a specific plan for this trip?” Seeing Marie’s expression, she explained condescendingly, “This little venture is costing SpiritStar billions of dollars. Every detail of it was attended to. Long before they received official authorization, they had this thing planned. Every single person on this trip was selected from all possible candidates based on personality, skill level, and ambition…Even the so-called government agents and military personnel were approved or bought-off by SpiritStar. Together, the people on this expedition make a machine. Each person is a different piece of the machine, and they all work together to make the machine as efficient as possible.”

  “And,” said Marie, frustration lacing her voice, “SpiritStar just decides to write me off because I’m not a part of their little machine?” She snorted. “Please come up with a better reason.”

  There had to be a better reason.

  Cristaña gazed at her coolly. “I wasn’t finished, Marie. Use your brain. Think about how this expedition has gone. What is wrong with what I just said?”

  Marie gave her an irritated look. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with it?”

  A disdainful expression crossed Cristaña’s face. Her upper lip curled back. “The expedition is good at everything—exploring, studying, observing—but one thing: diplomacy. Surely you have noticed that Barnabas is a poor diplomat, as are the others on this expedition?”

  Marie suddenly had a very bad feeling. “What are you saying?”

  Cristaña laughed hollowly. “Despite what anyone told you or the citizens of Earth, this expedition wasn’t designed for diplomacy. It has never been about diplomacy.”

  Marie’s heart leapt to her throat. Her voice fell to a whisper. “Then what is it about?”

  Cristaña raised her eyes to meet Marie’s. “It’s about taking over Maretzia. What else?”

  The world tilted beneath Marie. “What do you mean?” Her voice trembled. She couldn’t have possibly heard what she had thought she had just heard. Because that was impossible. Absurd. Stupid.

  Cristaña shook her head. “There is so much you don’t know, Marie—”

  “Then tell me!” Her voice was strangled.

  “I will.” Cristaña sat down on the bed and gazed at Marie levelly. “I will.”

  Marie waited. Her heart beat erratical
ly inside her. This was it. She was going to learn the truth.

  “You have been deceived, Marie—you and all of mankind. This expedition is not SpiritStar’s first foray into this world.”

  It took a moment for those words to sink in. Then Marie’s eyes bugged out of her head “What?”

  “You heard me,” Cristaña snapped. “How do you think SpiritStar even knew they had succeeded in traveling to an alternate dimension? They sent someone here, of course! Jason Astro—he was the first person to travel Across. He came back three days later—told stories of a great civilization, of a land of wonders ruled by a clever emperor. Bruno Campbell, SpiritStar’s CEO, was thrilled. Here was the opportunity he had been waiting for. SpiritStar would be the only company capable of trading with this dreamland. Campbell started imagining ways of selling the idea to the public. Oh, the riches SpiritStar would make!”

  Cristaña laughed bitterly. “And oh, the expression on his face when he received later, more detailed reports of Maretzia—for it was as great and as rich as Jason had described, but it was terrible as well. Slavery, gladiator games…SpiritStar couldn’t make a profit off of such a civilization!”

  Cristaña’s eyes burned. Marie trembled. “But SpiritStar had gone too far. It had invested too much, made too much of a gamble. If interdimensional travel couldn’t turn profitable, then they were ruined, and Campbell wasn’t about to let that happen. The man is a mad genius. If Maretzia couldn’t be profitable as it was, then he would find a way to change it so it would be profitable. So he came up with this plan.”

  “Which is?” Marie asked desperately. Her palms were sweating. She couldn’t believe her ears.

  Cristaña sounded vicious. “He plans on destroying Maretzia in every way possible—socially, economically, and militarily. First part of the plan? Sending out a man named Mark Wiles. Here he is known as Riljin Marsus, a merchant. He sells little Earth trinkets—nothing important or useful, only fascinating. The Maretzians love his products. He has become incredibly important in the time he’s spent here. In a year or so, he’ll probably be one of the most influential men in Maretzia.”

  Marie stared at Cristaña in shock. That name rang a bell. Wasn’t Riljin Marsus…? “The slaves!” she burst out. Her eyes widened. “The Council of Ten was worried about Riljin Marsus because he’s cruel to his slaves!”

  “Yes,” said Cristaña in satisfaction. “He is. Terribly. That was the second reason he was sent here. Campbell hoped he could incite a slave rebellion…just another thing to distract this emperor.” A smirk twisted her face. “Campbell is a genius. Marsus serves several functions. Not only does he incite the slaves and make the Maretzians dependant on Earth goods, but he makes a profit while he’s at it, and that profit is in turn used to fund the rebellion in Madalinda.”

  Marie gaped. “The rebellion in…” Her mind spun. The world tilted beneath her feet. She stumbled backwards.

  “Yes,” hissed Cristaña, her eyes alight with a fiery glow. “Don’t you see the genius of Campbell’s plan? He’s using something that’s destabilizing the empire to further destabilize the empire. Gaidus Herpanteon? His real name is Andrew Ferguson. He’s a mobster SpiritStar sprang from prison.”

  “But…”

  “Why create a rebellion?” Cristaña anticipated. “That’s easy. To distract this clever emperor, of course. And, if at all possible, to draw him to Madalinda. With the emperor in Madalinda, Melei-Argalla is easy pickings for an expedition like this, and the emperor is easy pickings for Ferguson. We were supposed to strike as soon as we reached the city, but for some reason Barnabas never received the go-ahead from Ferguson. We’ve been waiting all this time for word.”

  Marie felt dizzy. The room started to spin. Her heart raced, and bile rose in her throat. A veil had just been lifted from her eyes.

  “But I still don’t understand,” she managed. “Why kill me? And why does SpiritStar think that everyone’s going to be okay with us taking over?”

  Cristaña rolled her eyes. “Oh, Marie—you are so naïve. Do you think anyone back on Earth will honestly be upset if SpiritStar conquers Maretzia? All SpiritStar has to do is come up with a clever marketing campaign—say, showing pictures of starving laewin children, or detailing what goes on in artatrushi fights—and people will accept it. You may be accustomed to the brutality of Maretzia, but no one else is. No one on Earth will like it. What exactly do you think the people of Earth will do anyway, once they find out? Ignore it? I don’t think so! The people back home will be happy SpiritStar took over Maretzia! If SpiritStar doesn’t topple the Maretzian Empire, you know the people back home will try to find a way to do it!”

  “But what about me? Why kill me?”

  Cristaña snorted. “You don’t think SpiritStar will actually wait until the empire is stabilized to start selling its goods, do you? No, they’ll start selling immediately. People don’t have to find out about slavery now. SpiritStar can control the communication flow for a while, keep people in the dark. They can probably keep things under wrap for months, if not years, and in that time make a huge profit. You stand in the way of that. Unlike everyone else on this expedition, you’re returning home soon. You need only to utter a few words and billions in profit will go down the drain. Don’t think your life’s worth billions to SpiritStar, Marie. You were as good as dead the minute you signed the contract.”

  Marie stared at her. Her heart had leapt up to her throat. At last she managed, “Then why didn’t SpiritStar just kill me as soon as I came Across?”

  Cristaña sneered. “Don’t think some people didn’t want to. But Barnabas thought you might be useful. Thought he might be able to convince you to keep quiet. He catered to you, tried to get you to like him, admire him. It went well. You warm up to people slowly, Marie, but Barnabas thought he was getting to you, and when we ran into Rheidan and his crew, he was confident enough to introduce you to Rheidan. He had seen the look Rheidan had given you when he first saw you and thought he could use Rheidan’s attraction to you to his advantage. Turned out to be his biggest mistake. Because Rheidan did like you, and when not long after you met Rheidan, you started distancing yourself from Barnabas, and Barnabas realized he would never convince you to join us…it was too late. He couldn’t kill you. Rheidan would notice if you suddenly went missing. You would have to be killed slowly.”

  Marie felt nauseated. Shock made her stomach heave.

  Cristaña continued, “We all knew it, too. Word filtered down to everyone about it. You would have to be killed. We all understood it, accepted it in some way—even Jennifer, Dustin, Raymond, and yes, Joseph. Poor boy. Liked you. Got it into his head that if he could make you fall in love with him, he could convince you to keep quiet. An academic genius, but a social idiot.”

  Marie stared with wide eyes around the room. Her thoughts and emotions warred inside her head, so many different, confusing feelings welling up inside her, and at last she spluttered, “This is insane! How could SpiritStar do this?” Her thoughts flicked to Rheidan, Terrah, and Lord Deiämoniquen. Their lives would be destroyed if SpiritStar took over Maretzia. Her heart ached. “So many people will die!”

  Cristaña’s expression was sardonic. “And yet so many people will live, so many people will be free, and so many people will be rich.”