The Lost Code Part 27

Lilly had turned toward the door on the far wall. "I think it was that way. Come on." She rushed over to it.

I looked back at the screen.

"It needs the thumbprint," said Lilly, examining the door lock.

There was another shriek. It was eerie, high-pitched but m.u.f.fled, not just by the door, but like through a gag. And definitely made of sheer terror. Maybe someone was tied up down there. At this point, I wouldn't put anything past Paul.

"Come on, Owen!"

I glanced from her to the files. "But Dr. Maria wanted us to see these!"

Lilly scanned the room, then pointed toward a video sheet printer. "Download them!"

"Okay, yeah." I tapped out of the folders, and dragged them to the printer icon.

The printer buzzed to life in the corner. I found a Log Out b.u.t.ton and clicked it, gave Lilly the orange box, and hurried over to the printer.

A video sheet was slowly emerging, the files embedded in its silica fibers. I looked around the table for one of the chargers you needed to read it, little batteries that clipped into the base of the sheet and provided the current, but I didn't see one.

I heard a beep and a thick hissing behind me. Lilly had opened the door.

"Owen! Let's go!" Lilly's panicked tone matched the feeling I was getting inside from having heard those screams.

"It's almost done!" I said. "What's the-"

Another shriek, and this time, with the heavy door open, the sound was much more horrible than I could have imagined, the note warbling and frayed. It sounded like an animal as much as a person, something terrified and alone, and it made a knot in my gut.

"No..." Lilly's voice trembled. She launched out of sight.

"Wait!" I looked back at the printer. The sheet was still printing. And... done.

I grabbed it, rolling the smooth, clear surface as quickly and gently as I could, and then slid it into the backpack before I hurried to the door.

On the other side, a steel staircase led straight down. I could see another plastic-covered floor at the bottom. "Lilly?" I called quietly.

I started down the stairs, my feet clanging on the metal. There were sounds down there. Mostly machines. Humming. But also something rhythmic like breathing.

I neared the bottom. Another sound. Like a low voice, speaking to someone else.

Closer.

The voice bubbling, something miserable and lonely about its edges. I thought of the way that mourners spoke quietly to the tiny cinder piles after funerary ceremonies back home, just before setting the ashes free on the night breeze.

I reached the bottom step.

Another agonizing scream clawed at my ears.

The room was perfectly circular, almost like the Atlantean room, everything bathed in white light, reflecting off s.h.i.+ny surfaces.

Brilliant white. Only this room had a very different purpose....

And I felt myself lose touch with my skin, like I'd come unstuck inside, a floating thing, tethered only by the images appearing in my eyes. Things I could never have imagined.

But this was not the dream inside the skull.

This was a nightmare.

Chapter 22

I AM ON A BEACH. STANDING IN A GRAY MIX OF pebbles and sand. Bright morning sun makes the water blinding. The lake is surrounded by an amphitheater of jagged mountains, their peaks topped with snow. pebbles and sand. Bright morning sun makes the water blinding. The lake is surrounded by an amphitheater of jagged mountains, their peaks topped with snow.

In front of me is a little s.h.i.+p crafted of dark wood beams, brilliant copper plating at its joints.

"No, no, no, oh G.o.d, no..." The voice is behind me somewhere. Back in reality.

Don't listen to that. I look beside me to see Luk. He stands before his own similar boat. And there are others to either side of us, in a line, all about my age. I look beside me to see Luk. He stands before his own similar boat. And there are others to either side of us, in a line, all about my age. Stay here Stay here, says Luk. See this. See this.

Are we in the skull? I ask. I ask.

No, Luk replies, we are in your head, inside our shared memory. we are in your head, inside our shared memory.

I look back at the craft before me. It is like the one in the temple: single mast, metal triangular object in the center with the oval-shaped clay pot on top. The curved metal poles arch over the front half from one corner to the other.

"No, it's okay. It's going to be okay...."

Cast out! a voice calls from behind us. I turn to see a teacher in a maroon robe ushering us away. He is large, bald, with a curving pattern of black tattoos across his face that makes him look more like a warrior than a teacher. a voice calls from behind us. I turn to see a teacher in a maroon robe ushering us away. He is large, bald, with a curving pattern of black tattoos across his face that makes him look more like a warrior than a teacher.

Behind him, stone buildings ascend in levels back toward the city. Our city. The sky is blue. This is before the ash and darkness. In the midday sun I can see the s.h.i.+ning mosaic tiles on walls, the copper frames around windows and roofs, the brilliant gold-plated tips of obelisks and domes, the arched bridges spanning from one cl.u.s.ter of buildings to another. I can see the white globes that burn eternally around the square top of the central pyramid.

Like this, says Luk. He steps into his craft with one foot, pus.h.i.+ng away from the beach with the other. Everyone is doing the same. So do I. The craft wobbles laterally as I get in. I steady my balance. With a gritting sigh, the craft leaves the sand and drifts over the lapping waves.

Where is the wind? Luk asks. Luk asks.

I know this. I feel it. To our right, a westerly. About ten knots? To our right, a westerly. About ten knots?

Yes. So run a port-side sail.

Okay. I pop open the seat on my left and pull out a rolled bundle of fabric. Find the corners, marked by copper rings. I rummage back in the box for the short rope lines. They are smooth and stretchy, woven of silk. I tie anchor-hitch knots to fasten the three points of the sail to the junctures of the curved pole structure and the mast, my fingers twisting the rope without thinking, then throw the sail up to the left side of the boat. It billows into the air, catches a full breath, and the craft shoots off away from sh.o.r.e. I pop open the seat on my left and pull out a rolled bundle of fabric. Find the corners, marked by copper rings. I rummage back in the box for the short rope lines. They are smooth and stretchy, woven of silk. I tie anchor-hitch knots to fasten the three points of the sail to the junctures of the curved pole structure and the mast, my fingers twisting the rope without thinking, then throw the sail up to the left side of the boat. It billows into the air, catches a full breath, and the craft shoots off away from sh.o.r.e.

"Stay with me, just stay, okay? Stay...."

Steer with the pedal rudder! says Luk. He is pulling ahead of me. I look down and see a wooden plank sitting on a metal fulcrum. Pressing it down left or right will control the rudder. I turn the craft to grab the wind. says Luk. He is pulling ahead of me. I look down and see a wooden plank sitting on a metal fulcrum. Pressing it down left or right will control the rudder. I turn the craft to grab the wind.

We have to get enough speed to generate a charge for the heat cell, says Luk.

Heat cell?

That clay pot. It gets its charge from turbines. Look over the side.

I do and see a blur of spinning metal beneath the waves, some kind of small wheel attached to the side of the craft.

We're close. Now put up the thermal! I look over to see Luk, and others spread out over the water, arranging large pieces of fabric. One of them billows full, creating a spherical balloon above the craft. I look over to see Luk, and others spread out over the water, arranging large pieces of fabric. One of them billows full, creating a spherical balloon above the craft.

I open the other seat, pulling out a large bundle. I run it through my hands until I find the triangular opening. This needs to be positioned directly above that little copper nozzle on the clay pot.

"Please, please..."

That voice is tugging too hard. Though I want to, I can't avoid it. The other craft are beginning to rise from the water, taking flight, but the image is starting to wash away.

Owen! Luk calls to me. I see him looking down, through bright sun, but it is fading into white and blue. Luk calls to me. I see him looking down, through bright sun, but it is fading into white and blue. Stay here! Learn this! Stay here! Learn this!

I can't, I say.

I have to leave. I have to go back and face what I've seen.

Chapter 23

"COME ON, JUST HANG IN THERE, I'LL GET YOU out. I swear." out. I swear."

I blinked. I was back in the cylindrical lab. Around the wall there were metal exam tables on wheels. Five of them. Each had a tent of plastic, stretching up from the edges of the table to a point at the ceiling. The air smelled like strong chemicals, alcohol and ammonia, burning my nostrils.

In the middle of the room, there were three more exam tables that had been tilted to vertical. In the very center was a little round table. There was nothing on it except for an old brown jacket, draped there. On the floor were three thick cables, weird clear tubes stuffed with twisting, multicolored wires, and with large, clear suction cups at their ends. These ran up into the air, to the three vertical tables, where they connected to clear masks. Masks over the faces of Evan, Aliah, and Marco, who were strapped to the tables, hanging there, heads slumped forward, eyes closed. Their heads had been shaved in spots to allow little electrodes to be affixed to their scalps. Banks of monitors blinked beside them.

It was the Nomad's jacket in the middle of the room. The skull had been here. And the CITs had been tested to see if it would work for them like it did for me. But that wasn't where Lilly was.

"It's okay, it's okay."

Her voice was coming from my right, by one of the flat metal tables. I could see the cloudy shape of a figure through the tent. Lilly was leaning through a rectangular hole in the plastic. She had unzipped a panel that now hung down like a flap of skin. Her hands were in there, working feverishly. I could see the wet gleam of her eyes, the tears falling, the tremors running down her arms and legs.

I moved over to her. I didn't want to look, but then I followed Lilly's arms into the brilliant white light inside the tent, down to her wrists, where the blood began. To her hands, which were soaked, to her fingers, which fidgeted furiously at a buckle.

A buckle strapped over a clear plastic piece.

A plastic piece that covered a chest.

A chest that had been opened, that lay open now, skin peeled back, ribs separated.

Lungs inflating.

Heart beating.

"It's okay, Anna, it's okay."

Anna.

And it was worse. Even worse than all the tubes and wires running down into her open torso. Little white dots, sensors, were stuck to organs. Little spray jets, misters, were mounted to the plastic piece, sending down a fine spray to keep things moist.

The incision ended at her collarbone, but then her neck, her gills, had been pried open, skin shaved away around them. b.u.mpy muscle and veins exposed. Two thick plastic tubes snaked down into her mouth from machinery above. One was foggy with condensation, from air, the other dotted with bubbles, from water. The water flowed out of her gills, being caught by curved funnels. There was a steady sound of falling water.

She screamed again, a shriek that was m.u.f.fled by the tubes, but still agonizing.

And there were other tubes running everywhere, some filled with clear liquid, some with red. Multicolored wires running out of her body. Towers of monitors blinked and beeped beside her.

And her eyes were open. Green eyes in a pretty face; hair that if it hadn't been matted with months, years of grease would have been blond. It flowed out chaotically behind her, strands knotted in the tubing.

Anna stared at Lilly. Her eyes couldn't have been wider.

"Just gonna get this off," Lilly was saying, her voice shaking. "Unhook all this, and then get you out. Oh G.o.d, Anna, I'm so sorry."

Anna blinked, leaking tears. She made a quieter sound now. "Uuuu." Her eyes flashed to the bank of machines. "Uuuu."

I stared at the body, this girl, now a science project. This was a girl named Anna, a girl who had smiled and laughed and swam with Lilly, only now she was just insides, systems and organs dissected and turned into a living archaeology site. She had been torn apart by Paul and Eden in their search for the secret code... for me.

"Uuuu," Anna moaned. Her eyes fluttered back in her head.

"Almost there," Lilly a.s.sured her softly, her fingers flicking open the buckle. She threw the straps aside and pulled away the protective plastic piece, dropped it on the floor with a hollow thud that reverberated around the room. Her fingers twitched for a second. "I don't-," she said like she was talking to herself, and it was edged with a sob. I wondered what she was going to say, but then she started reaching gingerly down among Anna's insides, pulling out the little electrodes.

"Uuuu."

I looked back at poor Anna's pretty eyes, the edges red and crusted, surrounded by rings of bruising. The searing white lights reflecting in her green irises. Again, she was looking up as if into her own skull, then down, then back up. Was something happening to her? Or maybe she was trying to say something.

"Lilly, wait," I said. Peering behind Anna's head, through the plastic... I ducked my head out of the tent and looked to the wall. A thick power cord snaked up to a socket. "I think she wants us to turn it off."

"What?" Lilly snapped, sniffling. Her blood-soaked fingers were still working to untangle wires.

"To turn off the machines."

Lilly kept working. I wondered if she'd heard me. Then she stopped. It seemed to take a lot of effort for her to look Anna in the eye. And doing so made her cry again. "Unplug it? Should we do that first? Before I take these off? Will that make it hurt less?"

Anna's eyes welled again, big rims of tears, and she nodded.

"Okay, okay, and then we'll finish getting you out." Lilly turned toward the plug, but I caught her arm.

"Hey," I said quietly, "I ... I don't think she wants us to get her out." I couldn't be sure, but that was how it seemed. I imagined myself like this. Like that. that. And it wasn't like we could carry her out of here, not in her condition. And it wasn't like we could carry her out of here, not in her condition.

"What are you talking about?" Lilly jerked away from my arm.