Operation Hydra (23 page)

He turned to Krysta and brought her hand to his lips. They were icy. “Are you up for this?”

“I’ve waited for this my entire life.” She sounded sure, but her smile seemed manufactured.

“Then, see if you can get details about ward D: How many? What sort of implants? How are they controlled when the grid is working? Are the children still there? Why did Hydran take them there in the first place? We need to know what we’ll be facing.”

“I understand.”

“And you can do it?
Without rearranging his features?
I know there’s no love lost between you and Jon, but he’s our best source of information right now.”

“He’s our only source of information right now.”

Memories.
Everywhere Krysta looked, something triggered an unexpected memory. She wandered through the commons of ward B, dragging her fingertips along the tabletops as crewmembers from the
Tempest
conducted a room-by-room inspection to prevent anyone from being left behind. She’d follow them out, and ward B would be officially evacuated.

“It’s the only home you’ve ever known,” Bekka said softly, drawing her attention. “The sadness shouldn’t surprise you.”

Krysta took Bekka’s fragile hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been angry so long. I never thought I’d miss this place.”

Bekka smiled, patting Krysta’s cheek. “You’re taking the best parts of this place with you.”

“Yes, I am.” Releasing Bekka’s hand, Krysta looked to see how much farther the inspectors had to go. “Why aren’t you on the
Tempest
with the others?”

“Joleen asked me to speak with you. She told me she felt a surge in Saebin’s signal right after that odd man was discovered, and then nothing.”

Restlessly combing her fingers through her hair, Krysta glanced at Bekka and then away. What did they expect her to do that wasn’t being done already? “The entire Center is going to be evacuated. That means Saebin and Belle and all the others.”

“That wasn’t Joleen’s purpose for sending me. She wanted me to warn you.”

“About what?”

“About Saebin.
Joleen wanted you to know that Saebin has changed, that the person she contacted telepathically is significantly different from the Saebin we know and love. Just be prepared.”

Krysta nodded, but her mind rebelled against the possibility of another casualty. Hydran had taken too much from her already. He had taken too much from all of them.

“We’ll find her.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “And we’ll find Belle. Now tell me about the strange man. How was he discovered? Who discovered him?”

The older woman made a bland gesture with her hand. “I never saw him. All I know is his discovery caused quite
an uproar
with Hydran’s people.”

Dro Tar sauntered toward them. She had discarded the jacket of her uniform, revealing a black tee shirt with bright red lips. Vampire fangs exposed within the lips complete with drops of blood spelling out the words:
bite me
.

“They’re ready for ward C,” Dro Tar said. “Everyone’s getting restless.”

Amused by Bekka’s startled expression, Krysta casually introduced them. “Dro Tar this is Bekka; Bekka, Dro Tar. If you’ll be kind enough to escort Bekka to the lobby, I’ll go to the control center so the inspectors can give the all clear.”

“Okey dokey.”
Dro Tar offered a bawdy wink.
“Nice to meet you, Bekka.”

“Likewise.”
Bekka found her voice as they headed for the door. “Are all newcomers so… ostentatious?”

Dro Tar laughed. “No, my dear, I like to think I’m one of a kind, even on Ontariese.”

In the courtyard, Krysta stopped and looked back at the North side of the Center. It was empty now, free. Never again would an Ontarian submit to Hydran’s tyranny.

Take that, you vile bastard!

“I hate to rain on your parade, Krys,” Dro Tar patted her shoulder, “but this glass is still half full.”

“Ward C is just a matter of time, but we’ve got our work cut out for us with ward D.”

“So what did that weasel have to say?”

Krysta glanced at Dro Tar. “Which weasel might that be?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean Trey, and I don’t know any of Commander Barrel’s crewmembers personally — yet — so I must have meant Commandant Fartfignewtons.”

Krysta burst out laughing.
“Fart-Fig-Newtons?
That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” Hydran had only ever called him Jon.

“Well it’s something more like Farfiggnutines, but either way, I can’t pronounce half these Earthish names.” She
shrugged,
her smile completely unapologetic. “What did you learn from
Jon?
”

“There are a total of forty-eight occupants in ward D, twelve of whom have implants. The children are still there, as far as he knows, and he drew a basic layout of the ward. Each of the twelve shares a cell, pardon me, quarters, with a training partner. These six units are separated from the rest of the ward by a forcefield, which operates off the same energy source as the security grid.”

“Piff.”
She waved her hand, disregarding the information. “Nothing I hadn’t already learned. Why do men continually underestimate my resourcefulness?
Even Trey.
He should know better by now. Brett told me all of that and more. Do you know Brett?”

“I’ve only known her name for a few days, but she’s been dragging me from place to place for years.”

Dro Tar’s swirling hazel gaze touched her face. “She doesn’t seem like the bad sort, and she sure likes to talk once you buy her a beer.”

Krysta chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. The orderlies aren’t allowed to talk to the occupants, much less socialize.”

“
Weren’t
allowed, dear heart, weren’t allowed.” Dro Tar grinned. “I’d already located Operation Hydra’s fount of information, why do we need Jon?”

“Because, unlike Brett, Mr. Fart-Fig-Newtons has Red clearance.
He was able to get us into the high security areas. Secretaries may run offices, but executives still have the keys.”

“Point, set, and match. Okay, so we need the little weasel, at least for now.”

“Where is Trey?”

“You mean Commander
dar
Aune, don’t you?” Dro Tar corrected playfully.

“You called him Trey just a few —”

“Chill, I was teasing. Your social alliance is clear to everyone.”

“I’m sorry. This isn’t easy for me. I’d foreseen this day transpiring far differently than it has.”

“All dressed up and no ass to kick?”

Krysta indulged in one deep, cleansing laugh before she focused entirely on what remained to be done. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“He’s in the control center. Isn’t that why you were headed there?” Dro Tar hesitated a second before adding, “He’s with the weasel and Lord Drakkin.”

“Lord Drakkin? No Mystic is going to be any good to us until the grid comes down.”

They started across the grassy courtyard toward the southern end of the complex. “I wouldn’t let Lord Drakkin hear you say that. You forget he’s also the director of the Symposium.”

Dro Tar scanned
open
the door for Krysta.
“Meaning?”

“Meaning Lord Drakkin doesn’t need Mystic abilities to be imposing.”

Krysta paused. “Are you intimidated by Lord Drakkin?”

“I’m not intimidated by anyone.” She flashed her carefree smile. “I’m just glad we’re on the same side. Vee is amazing, and Drakkin is Vee’s mentor. You do the math.”

Dro Tar left her inside the treatment wing, situated between wards C and D. Krysta’s mind churned with questions and uncertainties. Leaving this place was only the beginning. What happened next? Where would they go? They knew nothing of life beyond the dome. They knew nothing of life.
Period.
She’d been so focused on liberating the Center that the future had never entered the equation.

As she approached the control center, the door slid open and Drakkin’s red-ringed dark gaze locked with hers.

“Stop doing that,” Jon snapped. “Every time you use your power it causes erratic fluctuations in the entire grid.”

Drakkin ignored the warning and met Krysta at the door.

“Did you transport in through the grid?” She was beginning to understand Dro Tar’s awe.

He smiled innocently. “I walked in through the front door. Commandant Fartfignuts —”

“My name is Farfiknutins.” Jon swiveled in his chair, his legs bumping into Drakkin’s. “If you can’t manage the pronunciation…”

A mysterious coughing fit cut off the rest of his suggestion.

Trey anxiously raked his fingers through his hair. “He’s right, Lord Drakkin. The grid fluctuates when you access your Mystic energy.”

“Can the human not be held somewhere else?” Drakkin’s eyes dimmed and the coughing abated. “He offends me.”

Krysta reached out with her mind, wondering if he would be able to hear her thoughts, as the other occupants could hear her thoughts.

Speak
. His richly accented voice responded to her lightest call.

Jon is an ass, but we need him right now. I can’t sense anything other than Belle’s lifeforce. Are you able to feel Vee? Is he well? Is he conscious?

All I sense is static.

“We have the all clear from ward C,” Jon announced.

“Show time,” Trey muttered.

Krysta met his gaze. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to evacuate the last ward as we did the other three. We’ll simple deal with any complications as they arise.”

“You haven’t been able to communicate with anyone inside ward D. They have no idea what’s going on,” Krysta objected.

“Won’t they feel it when the grid goes down?” Jon asked.

Krysta rested her hand lightly on Trey’s shoulder. “Yeah, and they’ll go nuts. Let me try and reach someone on the inside, before you drop the grid.”

“You think of this now?” Jon challenged. “What have you been doing for the last two hours?”

No one objected when Jon’s coughing fit resumed. Ignoring the man gasping for breath beside him, Trey stood and faced Krysta. “Do you know anyone inside ward D?”

“Saebin.
Belle’s been unresponsive. I’ve tried her several times already.”

She managed to conceal the pain from her calm tone, but unshed tears gleamed in her wide purple eyes.
So brave.
She always tried to be so brave. Trey smiled and pulled her into his arms.

“I will supervise the human,” Drakkin volunteered.

Jon sputtered. “Don’t leave me here with him.”

“You can see us on the monitor.” Trey smiled at Drakkin. “Drop the grid on my signal.”

“I’m not staying here with —” The door slid shut on Jon’s protest.

Trey slowed his long strides, making it easier for Krysta to keep up. All the corridors looked the same. The entire complex felt identical.
Tainted.

“If Drakkin’s energy frequency disrupts the grid, could he have brought it down without Jon’s assistance?”

“It’s irrelevant. Drakkin couldn’t get involved until Vee became endangered.”

“Do you think that’s why Vee did it?”

The question brought him up short. Had Vee intentionally endangered himself, knowing Drakkin would respond to his peril? He hadn’t allowed Vee a motivation beyond arrogance and shortsightedness.

“I don’t know.” They passed a small group of crewmembers assembled and waiting for orders. They stood out of sight of the ward’s entrance.

Krysta stepped up to the privacy panel and spread her fingers against the alloy. Trey half expected her to pass through the barrier and enter the ward. Some Mystics could. But Krysta was a healer. No, Krysta was a prophet. Well, he didn’t know exactly what Krysta was. He smiled.

“Can you hear me?” she whispered verbally, no doubt echoing the words she was projecting with her mind. “My name is Krysta.”

Trey gasped when a voice responded audibly to Krysta’s whispered words.

“I know who you are. The children are terrified. Where have you taken their mothers? What’s going on?”

“Tell the children they’ll be with their mothers in just a few minutes. There’s no reason to fear. Hydran’s gone. Everyone is being transported to a ship called the
Tempest
. We need to drop the safety grid. We can finish the evacuation much faster if we do. What’s going on in there? Is it safe for us to come in?”

There was a long pause. Krysta shifted her position against the panel, waiting.

“How do I know this isn’t another one of Hydran’s tricks?”

“What’s your name?”

“D-128,” the voice responded harshly.

“I’m going to come in, unarmed, with one other person. Don’t be frightened.”

The owner of the voice laughed. “Nothing frightens me anymore.”

“Jon, trigger the door,” Trey ordered.

They stepped into ward D. The commons looked like a battle zone. Tables and chairs had been stacked to form barricades, some smashed for crude weapons. Most of the occupants hovered around the perimeter, hesitantly watching the pair, waiting to see how their leader dealt with this new threat.

Trey turned his attention to the speaker, a tall, blonde woman dressed in a formfitting uniform of animal hide, or some material that had been synthesized to look like it.

Krysta approached her cautiously, but their gazes never wavered. “Your name is Ryell,” Krysta began.

“My distinction is D-128,” the woman corrected in an icy voice.

“Can we take the children out?” Krysta hadn’t actually seen one yet.

“The children are
my
responsibility.”

None of this made sense. Why were the children here? Why did Ryell think she needed to protect them? Had she done this to the commons? Krysta had known Ryell nearly as long as she’d known Saebin. But her voice had been so autocratic, so void of emotion Krysta hadn’t recognized it through the door.

“No one is trying to take that responsibility away from you.” Krysta took another cautious step. “We’re relocating the project. The children must be moved.”

“The children must be moved.” Ryell echoed mechanically.

“Where are the children?”