Thunder (26 page)

“What program?” a deep male voice asked.

G
anston stood leisurely in the open doorway, hands in pockets. He strolled in to stand among the group as they spun to face him. He'd watched out for Treva since she was a baby. Now was not the time to stop. He wanted to know what these outsiders had gotten her into.

Treva wrestled her arm free from Bodhi and ran to his side. “You can't be here. This is Dr. Everling's private lab.”

Ganston peered over his glasses at the three other people. “I think that Neanderthal would have a bigger problem with outlanders being in here than me, but that's another issue entirely. What program?”

Treva's shoulders slumped. “There's no use hiding it now.” Her arms waved in the air as a tear rolled down her cheek. “The purge has begun.”

Cleon helped Selah from the floor. She rested her forehead against the glass. “Rest in peace, my father. I never knew you, but I felt your love reaching for me.” She sniffed and walked
on stilted legs to Treva and Ganston. “Tell me how this happened. Who murdered my father?”

Treva looked on the verge of tears herself. “I can't be sure who did this, but with Glade gone, there is going to be mass carnage down below. He was the only control over them.”

Bodhi crowded in. “There are others. I feel them. Take us to them.”

Treva shook her head. “You can't go there. I couldn't get you in without proper authority.”

“I have the authority to go anywhere in this Mountain,” Ganston said.

They wheeled to face him.

Treva took his hand. “Uncle, I'm not sure you realize what's going on, but there is danger involved here. Everling is not going to let these subjects go willingly, and we've lost the person controlling them.”

Ganston clenched his teeth and pursed his lips. “Unfortunately, I do know what's going on. I've known all along and I never did anything to stop it.”

Treva took him by the arm and pulled him away from the outlanders.

“Do you know what you're saying?” Treva's eyes grew large.

Ganston nodded. “Yes, I do. That's why I created Stone Braide.”

Treva furrowed her brow. “What did you do? I thought that was just in development.”

“We're ready to go in the next couple weeks. I've gathered a large group of like-minded people . . .” Ganston sighed and took off his glasses. “We leaving the Mountain and taking technology and knowledge to the outside world.”

Treva ran a hand across her forehead. “This is huge. How did you keep it secret for so long?” She started to pace. “Why am I asking you that? Of course you have the ability keep it secret
and
do something on a grand scale. You've hated this place forever.” She shook her head. “I'm hoping you were going to take me with you.”

Ganston smiled. “Of course, my child. I would never leave you behind without giving you the opportunity to join me.”

Treva's eyes widened. “Did you create a security force as part of your plan?”

“Yes.” He put his glasses back on.

“I need to free the Landers below in the Prison Unit. Everling is going to have them all put to death. I think this was an example of his handiwork.” She pointed to the burnt and scarred containment unit.

He glanced at the torched room and grimaced. “He never ceases to amaze me with the level of barbarism he aspires to attain. What person could ever think up such evil?”

Ganston stared at the jet openings in the walls, floor, and ceiling. It was clear from the soot trails just how closely this resembled a crematorium. He shuddered at the thought of what the poor man trapped in that room had gone through being burned alive. Thinking on the scenario steeled his resolve.

“Leaving here will burn all our bridges.” He grinned at the thought of driving Everling into a rage over so many leaving the Mountain en masse.

“I'm not sure how much trouble you'll have. Everling's in that room over there.”

Ganston's eyes opened wide. “Where? You have Noah locked in a room?”

Treva motioned him to the control panel. She pushed the button to transform the plascine wall to clear. The younger-looking Everling lay motionless on the floor.

“Who is that?” Ganston asked, staring at the full head of dark hair. He moved closer to the wall.

“That's Dr. Everling. He's been taking drug therapies to regress his age.”

Ganston bent down to stare at the unconscious man's face. “I haven't seen him look this young in thirty years. Is he dead?”

“No. He's breathing, but he's been using untested drugs. I'm torn between calling medics—Everling would rage because no one knows about these drugs—or just leaving him there until I can find Drace Stemple. He'd be the only one Everling would allow to treat him.” Treva smacked the button to turn the wall back to opaque. “This is a convenient time for him to be out of the loop, though. We need to be finished before he comes to.”

Ganston smiled broadly. “I never thought I'd see the day, but now that it's here, I'm savoring the moment.”

Treva waved her hand in a counterclockwise motion. “Okay, are we done with your moment? We need some help, and there's no time to spare.”

Ganston lifted his ComTex, pushed a few keys, and Mojica's face filled the small screen.

“I need you. My office, ten minutes. You have an expert security team in training, yes?”

Mojica cracked a smile. “Yes. Why? Do you need a demonstration?”

Ganston pursed his lips. “A live demonstration, yes. Put
them in readiness, and we'll discuss this exercise when you get to my office.”

“Can you tell me what kind of
exercise
you have in mind?” She knit her brows together.

“Let's just say your troops are going to engage in facilitating a mass escape.” He held up a finger and turned to Treva. “How many people are we setting free?”

Treva shrugged. “I don't have a clue. I've never been down to that department. I'd say up to twenty maybe.”

Ganston turned back to his com screen. “Twenty people.”

Mojica raised an eyebrow. “Now you've got my attention. I'll be right there.” The screen went blank.

Ganston led the four young people back to his section, where they'd be less noticeable. They reached his office as Mojica arrived.

She presented a commanding figure dressed head to toe in military combat gear. The weapon strapped to her right thigh was one of the most advanced laser weapons the Mountain had recently developed. Ganston wondered how much this equipment was costing him.

As he led them into his conference room, he decided whatever the cost, if it took him to the top and kept him there, it was worth it. “How many men do you have in this elite force?”

Mojica repositioned her weapon on her thigh to avoid rubbing the chair arm and sat down. “What makes you think my troops are just men?”

Ganston raised an eyebrow. “I didn't mean to insult your choices. I just didn't realize there were women of exceptional combat caliber in this Mountain.”

“I'm of that caliber.”

He nodded. “Touché. How many troops do you have ready?”

“How many do you need?”

Ganston's jaw set, his temper flaring. He didn't like playing word games, especially the “answer my question with a question” one. “Are you deliberately being evasive with me?”

Mojica straightened and leaned forward. “Of course not. I'm just saying whatever you need done and however many combat personnel you need to accomplish it, I can deliver. Just tell me what you want.”

“Assess the situation. You decide.” He stared at her. He would see how she did on this, since it was basically training to him and not a requirement for his new community.

“First tell me who we're setting free, and from what area of the Mountain?” Mojica drummed on the arms of her chair.

Ganston smiled. “You're going into Noah Everling's Level Three Confinement area and setting free the Landers.”

Mojica's eyebrows raised, forcing her forehead into wrinkles. “And you think Everling isn't going to object?”

“At this point he's out of commission,” Ganston said.

“And locked up,” Treva added.

Mojica glanced between the two of them. “Should I ask how you know this, or is it better left unsaid?”

Ganston rubbed his chin. “Better left unsaid. He's definitely incapacitated, and Treva can't find his assistant Drace Stemple. There are no others to interfere. The rest are just workers.”

“Don't forget his wife Bethany. She's become a force to be reckoned with since she woke from her coma. Wait until you see her age regression,” Treva said.

“Where is she?” Mojica asked.

“I don't know. I haven't seen her in the lab today.” Treva seated herself next to Cleon and gave him a sideways smile.

Ganston followed her movement. He knew that look. Whether she realized it or not, Treva had an attraction to Cleon. He marveled how young people could be in such dire straits but still emotionally involved elsewhere.

He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Treva, even though it's part of Everling's secret operations, do you know anything about the security in Level Three Confinement?”

She shook her head. “All I know are comm extensions, and I don't think they'll help.”

“They might.” Mojica raised a finger. “I don't know Everling's operation because guards have to sign a specific nondisclosure with his Science Consortium. But as head of security, I know the layout of the area and how many guards are on duty. Having comm channels might help us pinpoint where guards are at the moment of our incursion and extraction.” Mojica rose from her seat, fingering her ComTex. She walked to the other end of the conference room and spoke into the device in hushed tones, then returned to her seat and leaned back, looking satisfied.

“How soon can we get them out?” Treva moved to the edge of her seat. Her hand brushed Cleon's and they both blushed.

“I'll leave that up to Mojica.” Ganston raised an eyebrow at their interaction. He remembered being young. Stressful situations made strange associations.

“What part are these people to play in the operation?” Mojica waved a hand at the group.

“None,” Ganston said. He didn't want Treva in danger or these outsiders running around in his Mountain.

“Oh no you don't,” Treva said. “I'm going. I've been giving the Landers shots to bring them out of the slumber, and they've bonded with me. You go in there with a bunch of strangers and no Glade, no matter how well meaning, and it could cause a disaster.”

“Who's Glade?” Mojica asked.

Ganston looked at her. “He was one of the Landers. There's a badly burnt corpse in his cell in Everling's lab, where we just came from.” He gestured toward Treva. “She makes a valid point. But it's up to you.”

Mojica raised an eyebrow and shrugged her shoulders. He nodded reluctantly.

“I can communicate with them telepathically to help keep them calm,” Bodhi said.

Mojica gave Bodhi a look that Ganston couldn't interpret.

“How can you do that?” He furrowed his brow. How many other things about this operation didn't he know?

“Landers have telepathic abilities among themselves. Everling never quite guessed, but he put them on a drug cocktail to suppress their abilities before he understood how huge that could become,” Treva said.

Ganston sat forward. “So you're telling me he's a Lander?”

Bodhi and Treva nodded.

“And I came here looking for my father, Glade Rishon. Since Everling killed him, I have a right and a need to help free those of my people who are trapped here,” Selah said.

Ganston leaned on his desk and put his hand to his forehead. “So you're a Lander too?” What was he doing helping
these people? He could think of so many ways that this could go wrong. He could spend the rest of his life in prison for this kind of insurrection.

Cleon turned to Selah. “Your people? I'm your people. You didn't know any of this stuff last week, and now you're joining a military operation to free people you've never met. What about me?”

Selah shrugged. “You can come too.”

“Wait a minute. I haven't said any of you can go
anywhere
yet,” Mojica said.

“Uncle!” Treva said. All four started arguing with Mojica.

Ganston raised a hand. Everyone ignored him. He slapped the desk. “Hey!”

The room went silent.

“Thank you,” he said. “I hesitate to say this, but I think each of you has earned a right to go. You've been through a lot to get to this point.” He especially didn't want any pushback from Cleon. In a perfect world the young man would die in the conflict and he could wash his hands of the whole mess.

Mojica shrugged. “Suit yourself. This is not going to be fun and games. Those guards will be using live ammo and so will we. You've all been warned.” Her ComTex beeped. She answered it and replied with a curt, “ASAP. Wait for my command!”