Marco gestured out toward Cass. “We’re traveling with a human gyroscope, dude. He’ll guide us by the moon. Or the molecules in the water. Or the trail of fish poop. Whatever. In about an hour and a half, the sun rises. By that time we’ll be far away and we’ll see where we’re going. Ready? Let’s go.”
We pushed off toward Cass and Aly. The boat rocked on a sudden wave that broke over the side, nearly soaking me.
Rowing with Marco was a great way to feel useless. His strokes nearly lifted the boat out of the water. As his oars struck the surface, the wind spat the splashing water into my face. I could barely keep pace. We reached the other two quickly and managed to get them aboard without capsizing. Marco had brought a blanket and some extra clothes in his pack, which he gave to Aly and Cass. Cass sat next to Aly in a seat at the stern, where Marco and I could see them. Aly was shivering and Cass put his arm around her. “Where to, Christopher Columbus?” Marco asked.
Cass peered upward, into the rain. “No chance of s-s-seeing any stars tonight. We’re going to have to use d-dead reckoning. Row like crazy and keep parallel to the shore. We’re traveling northwest, with the c-current. By daybreak we should be one or two miles away. Then we can s-s-stop.”
“You okay, Aly?” Marco asked.
“As well as can be expected, having to stare at you,” she replied.
Marco’s SUV-sized back loomed toward me and away, toward and away. He was pulling harder than before, the boat practically lurching out of the water. I winced with each stroke, afraid he’d break the oars and shoot straight backward.
“Can you do that a little smoother?” Aly asked. “I’m getting sick.”
“You can ease up a little, Marco!” I called against the wind. “I’m rowing, too!”
“Have to…pull hard…to get over…these swells…” Marco grunted. “It’s calmer…farther out.”
Aly leaned over the side of the boat and threw up. I pulled until the skin on my palms hurt. A bright stroke of lightning rent the air. For a moment the scene in front of me was bathed in a ghostly greenish white. Marco’s arm muscles were a ropy tangle as he pulled.
“Something’s wrong with Aly!” Cass shouted. She was convulsing in his arms now.
“Seasickness!” Marco shouted. “She’ll be better in a minute!”
Now I was rising nearly vertically. Cass screamed, his voice now below my feet. I held tight as the boat slapped back down, wrenching my stomach like a roller coaster.
“It’s getting worse, not better!” Cass’s cry was cut off by a crack of thunder.
“That was about ten seconds between the light and the noise!” I shouted. “We’re two miles from lightning!”
“Where’s land?” Cass cried out, holding tight to Aly, who now appeared to be unconscious.
“Got to…get farther out…” Marco grunted.
“I can’t navigate without a shore, Marco!” Cass said. “Sea is different from land!”
Marco dug in extra hard. “You’re the genius—figure it out! I have to get the boat out of this—”
A black curtain rose up to the starboard side, as if the sky itself had been swallowed up in the storm. Marco lifted one of the oars and rowed with the other, trying to change the boat’s position. “Hang on!” he yelled. “Get low and hold on to the boat!”
I let go of my oars and grabbed tight on both sides. I could see Aly sinking to the floor. And then she and Cass were sliding…colliding with Marco…
Marco lost control of his oars. They swung away from him, flailing against the side of the boat. His hand was bleeding. He lunged forward, trying desperately to grab them again.
The wave lifted us upward like a roller-coaster car. We paused at the top, nearly sideways, suspended for a brief moment…
And we flipped silently into the sea.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SINK OR SWIM
MY LEGS LURCHED over my head. My arms flailed as if they didn’t belong to me. My body bent backward and I thought my neck would snap. I was traveling in directions I didn’t know existed. I felt the grit of seaweed against my skin and had no idea which way was up.
I willed myself to be still. Soon I was floating. Upward. My lungs were about to explode from my chest. I began swimming desperately. Kicking hard.
“Geeeeeahh!” I broke through the surface with a desperate sucking of air. My body spasmed. Seawater rushed into my mouth and I thought I would choke.
“Help! Help me!”
Cass.
His voice was to my left. Not far. I took three crazy deep breaths. Swimming blindly, I called out, “Where are you?”
But my voice was lost in the spindrift. I fought against the swells and whitecaps, taking my direction from Cass’s screams. But now his voice was getting weaker. “Hang on!” I shouted. “I’m—”
My arm hit something solid.
It was Aly, facedown in the water. I yanked her head up but she was motionless, eyes rolled back into her head. I pulled her against me, my front to her back, and squeezed her abdomen hard. Nothing.
I turned her around and put my lips over hers, inhaling as hard as I could. Then exhaling. Pumping her system with oxygen.
Her body seized up. She jerked back and coughed a gob of seawater and long-digested quail.
Marco’s voice boomed from my right. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know.” He was swimming toward us, his arms chopping through the rough water.
“Let me take her,” Marco said. “You get Cass.”
As he pulled Aly away, I tried to scan the area. The rain seemed to be coming horizontally, right into my eyes. “Cass! Where are you? Say something!”
A tiny moan was my only answer. I swam furiously until I saw a black lump emerging from the water’s surface. I reached below and grabbed an arm.
Cass’s head bobbed upward. He spluttered weakly. But he was alive. “Hold on to me and I’ll tow you in!” I said, flipping onto my back as I grabbed Cass’s hand.
“Aly…” he moaned. “She…”
“Marco has her!” I said.
Cass was trying to shout something, but I couldn’t understand him.
“I’m here!” Marco cried out in the darkness. “Follow my voice! Let’s swim to shore!”
“Where is it?” I yelled.
“I don’t know!”
In that moment, I knew we were dead. Left, right, forward, back—it all looked exactly the same. Marco was guessing where to go, towing Aly. And he was almost out of my sight. I was an okay swimmer but not great, and I’d swallowed a ton of seawater.
Lightning split the sky, followed almost immediately by thunder. It was getting closer. I hoped the wash of light would reveal some sign of land, but all I could see were rain and whitecaps.
Cass’s grip was getting firmer. He groaned. “Treat…ment…”
“What?” I shot back.
“Aly…” he said. “Missed her…treatment…”
I realized what he meant. Aly wasn’t seasick. Something else was wrong. Her illness was all about her treatment. The one she had blown off.
My hands plunged into the weed-choked water. I tried to measure my strokes, to conserve energy. But my fingers were weakening, and Cass slipped away. I saw in an instant that he didn’t know how to swim. He was slapping the water crazily, choking.
“Going…to die…” he said.
My lungs were filling up. My body felt as if it were full of solid lead. I reached desperately for Cass’s wrist and held tight.
His leg swung around and kicked up from underneath.
No. It couldn’t have been his leg. Something else was down there, thick and smooth, pushing up against my own feet. It was lifting me. Lifting Cass.
His hand unclasped. We were both sliding now, off to one side.
Shark.
I tried to swim away, but my strength was gone. The beast broke the surface of the water, its skin black against the storm. It was too big for a shark. Enormous. It must have been a whale, like the
one that washed ashore. I felt around desperately for Cass.
He was barely afloat. All I could see were the whites of his frightened eyes.
“Swim!” I yelled. “Move your legs and arms! Come on!”
“No,” he shot back. “Jack, look—lights!”
I turned toward the undersea intruder. Its shadow was now a solid hull, its skin gleaming metal. At one end a light blinked on a small rectangular housing. As it rose, I could see shapes painted on its hull.
The letters K and I. And, between them, a star.
“She had about another half hour to live, even in the best of circumstances,” Professor Bhegad announced as he emerged from a hatch in the submarine’s control room. “The doctor has managed to stabilize her. She is undergoing the treatment and will continue when we dock.” He stepped into the small room and eyed us meaningfully. “Without any trickery, I trust.”
“Thank you,” I said, shivering.
Despite the tropical climate, our body temperatures had dropped while we were in the stormy sea. I was wet and shivering beneath an oversized KI beach towel. I sat opposite Cass and Marco on wooden benches, our knees touching. The submarine was small and cramped, but the dryness felt unbelievably good. My arms shaking, I sipped a cup of hot chocolate.
“This is my fault, P. Beg—I mean, Professor,” Marco said. “I did all the planning, organized the breakout all by myself—”
“You are an extraordinary athlete, Marco, not an actor,” Professor Bhegad said. He was sitting next to me, his face drawn and grim. “You do not need to cover for your friends. It is enough that I found you all alive.”
I glared at him. Was this another of his planned rescues, like the Miracle of the Monkey? It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Aly had rigged the surveillance system. He couldn’t have seen us. “Just how did you find us?” I asked.
“Why did I have to find you?” he snapped back at me. “Do you understand the absolute folly of what you just attempted? And the consequences you may have faced? By depriving Aly of the treatment, you nearly killed her.”
“Sorry, it was really stupid,” said Cass feebly.
Bhegad whirled on him. “Stupid is a small word. What you did was unforgivably reckless. Imagine if you’d succeeded. What happened to Aly would happen to you all. The operation unlocked your G7W gate, which saved your life. But the gate is unstable and can fail. The metabolic pathways are too weak. It’s like a dam—open it slowly and it will irrigate a landscape; break it and it causes a flood. Your powers will overwhelm your system and kill you. We have developed the treatments to adjust the energy flow. To preserve your lives. And you decide to take a toy boat into notoriously unnavigable waters during a storm? By the Great Qalani, this is not stupid, it’s insane. Suicidal.”
I knew I should have felt moved by Bhegad’s words. He had saved us. But his tone was angry and scolding, as if we’d just spilled coffee on his favorite scientific experiment.
“We’re grateful, Professor,” I said, “but you’re part of the reason this happened. What do you expect? Whether you lock people up in an underground bunker or in a tropical village, you’re still locking them up. Saving people’s lives is a great thing, so why do it in secret? Maybe there are hundreds more G7W carriers you could help—”
“There’s a good reason for the secrecy,” Professor Bhegad said.
“Atlantis!” I blurted out, staring at him levelly. “You’re turning us into super-charged slaves who will find Atlantis for you.”
My words hung uncomfortably in the room’s dankness.
Professor Bhegad’s eyes grew sad and distant, his face red from the humidity in the submarine. He paused, wiping his fogged glasses, then put them on and looked at me. “Jack, when you came out of the operating room, you were in a coma for two days. We monitored you, round the clock. You talked quite a bit in your sleep. Something about an explosion and an earthquake. A red flying beast. A hoglike thing resembling a cheetah. You called it a vromaski, I believe.”
Cass choked. Marco looked stunned.
“If I’m not mistaken, Jack, you’ve been having these visions for as long as you can remember,” Bhegad continued. “Do they sound familiar, Marco?”
Marco swallowed nervously. “He’s lying to you, Jack. Those are my dreams. You are messing with our heads, Professor.”
“No, he’s right, I did dream them,” I said. “I dream them a lot.”
“I do, too,” Cass piped up.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “How can three people have the exact same dreams?”
“Four,” Bhegad said. “Aly has them, too. Same event. Same location. It is a place all four of you know well.”
“I thought you were a scientist, P. Beg,” Marco said with a baffled laugh. “I don’t need a PhD to know that’s impossible.”
“Do you know the term déjà vu?” Bhegad asked. “When you have this odd feeling I’ve been here before, even though you know you haven’t? That feeling is considered to be a fantasy, too. But our research shows that déjà vu is a connection to something real—some past event that left an unanswered question. Any of you could feel it, say, in a small coffeehouse while visiting Paris. Chances would be that your great-great-great-great grandfather fell in love there and never saw the woman again, or was attacked by a stranger who was never found.”
“So déjà vus are like memories from people who are dead?” Cass asked. “Ghosts of memories?”
“They are visions of real things,” Bhegad said. “We don’t pretend to understand them fully. But these visions exist—stored in that vault of mysteries, the ceresacrum! You are being called to see the destruction of Atlantis. It is a vision of what happened when its source of power was stolen, upsetting the balance that had existed for ages. We believe the power was divided into containers and hidden.”
“And where are we supposed to find them?” Marco said. “Antique shops?”
“Why us?” I cut in. “Why are we having these dreams? And how does the G7W marker fit in with all of this? And why are we the ones who have to find these…containers?”
“They are called Loculi,” Bhegad said softly. He thought for a moment and took a deep breath. “There is much I need to tell you, when you are all conscious. Suffice it to say, for now, that we are not the only ones bent on finding the Loculi. There is another group—and we must get them first.”
The hatch in the floor opened, and we could hear a rhythmic mechanical beeping. A silver-haired doctor poked her head into the hole and gave Bhegad a thumbs-up. “Signs are stable,” she announced. “Patient is conscious.”
“Any permanent damage, Doctor Bradley?” Bhegad asked.
The doctor scratched her head. “Her first words to me were, ‘We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.’”
“The Wizard of Oz,” Cass explained. “That means she’s okay.”
“Well, she will need a full day to sleep this off,” the doctor replied. “Perhaps they all will.”
Bhegad nodded, his eyes traveling from Cass to Marco to me. “I have no more wind to answer your questions,” he said. He checked his wristwatch. “It is now six A.M. Your training begins in exactly twenty-four hours.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TRAINING DAY
“SORRY.” TORQUIN YAWNED as he entered my room, his bare feet slapping the floor like dead fish. “Overslept. Come.”
I slid off my bed and followed him down the corridor. It was nearly 7:30 A.M. on Training Day. Exactly at 6:00, a technician had arrived to take Cass to the media center. Marco had run off with a bunch of jockish-looking guards. And someone had whisked Aly off in a golf cart to the system control center. We were all supposed to have a morning of “skill building,” followed by a classroom lesson at 2:00 P.M. with Professor Bhegad.
Torquin had been late. “Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“Garage,” said Torquin.
Great. Either my gift had something to do with cars, or I was destined to be a world-class custodian.
<
br /> As we stepped outside into a crisp, sunny day, I realized I had no idea what the weather had been for about twenty-four hours. The previous day had been spent sleeping, arguing, and eating food that Conan had wheeled to the dorm on a cart.
It took a while to fill Aly in, because she’d had no memory of the night’s main events. In the end, we’d all agreed to toe the line. To go along with Bhegad’s plan. Even though I, for one, still didn’t believe his story.
“Heeee-yahh!” came a distant shout. At the other end of the compound, way across the open lawn, a group of guards seemed to be in some sort of martial-arts fight. They were dressed in robes, attacking each other with sticks.
No. Not each other. From their midst, one lone figure leaped upward, doing a complete backflip over their heads. Landing behind the line, he plowed into the backs of their knees with his own stick, sending nearly the whole group sprawling.
“Marco?” I murmured.
“Dangerous,” Torquin said, waddling toward the media center. He opened the door and we walked into the huge main room, with its beanbag chairs, monitors, and games.
My heart leaped. “Cool,” I said. “So you were joking about the garage!”
“Shortcut,” Torquin replied. He went through a door at the other side, which led to a long, tiled corridor. As we passed one of the rooms, I could see Cass working at a desk with some scientists. Someone had placed electrodes on his head, which were attached to some machine. He and two KI guys were staring at a massive, highly detailed map of an island. In the middle stood an enormous black mountain, labeled ONYX.
“Is that where we are?” I asked.
“We are walking on floor. That is map.” At the end of the corridor Torquin pushed open a door. The smell of hot rubber and grease assaulted us. “Inside. Now.”
We continued across a hangar-sized building with all manner of carts, trucks, and buses being painted and repaired. Mechanics bustled about, some ducking under vehicles, others with heads buried beneath the open hoods. At the other end, what seemed to be a mile away, I saw the submarine that had plucked us out of the sea. It was now more than six feet off the ground atop a car lift. A huge square panel had been cut out of the bottom, to reveal a tangle of broken wires, tubes, and blackened steel. It looked as though it had just been through a fire.