Fate of Devotion (Finding Paradise Book 2) Page 7

  “If you’d sent out a robot, you would’ve shown your hand, wouldn’t you have?” the man said. “We would have known you were Toton.”

  “But . . . not exactly . . .” Trent paused to rub his eye. “If we took over some of the robots, reprogrammed them, and started using them to save human lives, then we would have a robot. We lost one of our team, as you clearly saw . . . since you shot him. With a robot, we wouldn’t have.”

  “If you had sent out a robot, we would’ve shot you when we saw you. Only Toton has robots.”

  “I feel like we’re talking in circles—get . . . off!” Trent slapped Rhett’s hand away. He heaved himself to the top of the pile. Breathing heavily, he said, “Oh good, you have stairs on this side.”

  Trent made it down to the floor without killing himself, which was miraculous. When everyone except the woman on the wall, who stayed at her post, was over the barricade, they started off down the corridor. The directions on Trent’s wrist aligned with their progress. After a couple more turns, they came to a second barricade.

  “Don’t you be coming no closer, hear that true?” a woman called from the top. “I got a rocket launcher with your names on it.”

  “It’s me, Gertie,” the man called out. “These people are here with that rebel group. They’re going to get us out of here.”

  “Sounds like a bunch of crap to me,” Gertie said in a bold, crackly voice. “Look like security, they do. They ain’t coming in here. Someone done sold out, that’s what I’m thinkin’. You can bork out on your own, Kajel. You ain’t takin’ all of us with yous buggers.”

  “Is that Standard?” one of the troopers asked, eyeing a mobile screen.

  “Just a bunch of slang,” someone answered.

  “This idiot started the breeding projects.” Kajel hooked a thumb Trent’s way. “Bred that kid, Marie.”

  “Actually, if you knew your history, the breeding projects started soon after the Enlightened Ages when we put a stop to the majority of natural births,” Trent said in disapproval. “With Marie and the others, I merely enhanced the natural—”

  “You’re a damned fool is what you are.” Gertie leaned over the wall to get a better look. Skin sagged on her face and around her jowls. She was old for someone so obviously low in the conglomerate hierarchy. Those without the creature comforts of plush living, or clones to switch out body parts, often succumbed to the harsh environment much sooner than those of higher-level status who had all those things. Unless she was actually a superior and chose to affect the slang so common among the lesser staffers, as Ryker was starting to do. “You opened a door for those resource-stealing, air-clogging sons of test tubes? Once they got a whiff of what could be done, they went crazy with it, they did. Created a bunch of monsters.”

  Ryker would have to strive harder to match Gertie’s flair.

  “I assure you, I—”

  “Bah!” Gertie waved her hand through the air. “You’re all the same, yous buggers. But anyway, how do I know it’s really you, eh?”

  “I’m well fed and healthy, for one.” Trent spread his arms. “Off-planet will do that to you . . .”

  “Showboatin’ now? Cog swogger.” Gertie lowered a large barrel that could only be the rocket launcher she’d warned them of.

  The troopers tensed. Trent raised his hands. “I just meant that I’ve obviously been off-planet because I’ve been eating right. Otherwise I’d be skinnier. Like you.” Trent cleared his throat. “If you pull that trigger, this whole place will fall on your head. Think that through.”

  “He knew the first one’s name, knew the parents, and has a tendency to babble,” Kajel said in a bored tone. Clearly this wasn’t the first time Gertie had threatened to use her weapon. Thankfully, judging by the intact walls and floor, she hadn’t yet made good on her threat.

  “That right.” Gertie lowered the weapon a fraction. “You do babble a lot. You did know her name.”

  “Not to undermine myself, but anyone could’ve just looked it up. It’s in the conglomerate natural birth record—”

  The hard elbow in Trent’s back cut off his words.

  “They wiped her record clean,” Kajel said, starting toward the barricade. “Took her name out and gave her a number. Classified whatever compound you used to create her. Then started experimenting. Our Ms. Lance lifted the details so our labs could use it, but not the name. Ain’t no one save a select few heard the kid’s name.”

  “Then how did you know it?” Trent asked.

  “Gertie, get out of the damn way, will ya?” Kajel said. “We don’t got this kinda time. Suppose Toton saw these buggers land? We gotta pack it up.”

  “I knew the name,” Gertie yelled down. “I was screwing one of the Moxidone lab rats when that whole thing was going on. Said the creator named her, and that ain’t never been done before, you hear me, Hometown? That name stuck in my brain. Then she got taken by the creator and the natural dad, and the three of ’em up and disappeared. Well now, that got some people thinkin’, yes it did. All them women wanting their babies—”

  “Gertie, get out of the damn way, I said!” Kajel yelled.

  “Fine, fine. But I still say this is a bad idea,” she grumbled, disappearing from the top of the wall.

  “That’s it?” Trent asked incredulously. “All that and she just wanders away?”

  “You got a problem with keeping your mouth shut, Hometown,” the female trooper said. The rest of them snickered.

  “What does hometown mean?” Trent asked. “I mean, besides the town in which one’s home is located?”

  “Get going.” Trent felt a nudge much too low for his taste. Rhett was too grabby by half.

  “Is there an easy way to . . . no. We’re just climbing over this one, too, are we?” Trent hung his head for a moment before following Kajel up the pile, thankfully a smidgen easier to climb than the last.

  On the other side, he sighed in satisfaction. It was a development facility like the one he’d had back in the conglomerate days. Memories of children laughing and toddling around made a smile crease his lips.

  Gertie opened the glass door manually and then pushed at it to keep it open so he, Kajel, and the troopers could walk through. The room beyond was encircled with low cushioned benches, and faded and worn children’s toys littered all the surfaces. Funny animals and matted, stuffed bears brought warmth to his heart.

  “What phase are they in?” Kajel asked Gertie as he made his way across the room. He stepped on one of the bears.

  “Watch out,” Trent berated, moving the bear out of the way before turning back to everyone else. “Kids chew on things. Don’t get your filthy shoes all over their toys.”

  “Oh yeah, he’s Trent McAllister, all right. Drove all the staffers crazy with his constant rules.” Gertie’s lips pursed.

  “It’s logic and plain common sense,” Trent spat, his mood turning sour. “Keep the children healthy, keep their minds active, and watch them flourish. Obviously it’s the right way, given how excellently Marie and her siblings turned out. I’m now in charge of the birthing and child development station on—”

  “I’m already sick of listening to the cog swogger.” Gertie pushed past. “Through here. They should be just waking up from their naps.”

  “What’s a cog swogger?” Trent asked Rhett.

  “Dick wagger.”

  Trent scowled as they entered a smaller room with miniature work pods set up, all of the screens blank. Primitive writing tools lay scattered around, along with some material that had been scrawled on.

  “This is where they’re taught?” Trent asked in disbelief. “Are they below the Curve?”

  “In the beginning, we tried to teach them their letters, but these kids . . .” Kajel waited by the next door. “They’re different. They’re not like normal kids. So we just try to keep them contained.”

  “What are we walking into?” one of the troopers asked, fingering the gun at his belt.

  “You are not walking into any
thing.” Trent held up his hand. “Stay out here. I’ll go in.”

  “Suddenly found your balls, huh?” one of the troopers muttered.

  “They are children, people!” Trent bellowed, unable to help it. “A lunatic old lady with a rocket launcher is terrifying. A child is—or should be—sweet and innocent. It’s people like you who really bring the overall intelligence level to soggy depths, I will tell you. I have to remember to tell Millicent she was right all along.”

  “No way would I work with him, I’ll say that much,” Gertie said, shaking her head. “Good thing I was off in Gregon when he had his reign of terror.”

  “Oh, just shut up.” Trent pushed past Kajel and then slowed at the sight of little beds and a couple of cribs. Ragged and torn, the bedclothes were stained and crusted, not cleaned often enough. Little arms lifted and wiped tired eyes. Small bodies shifted to look at him. As they did so, he caught sight of their badly sagging and thin mattresses, not much better than sleeping on the floor. Gaunt little faces broke his heart. They hadn’t had enough sustenance, either, as small as they were.

  This was war, he had to remind himself. The children were alive, and he was here in time to help them. He had to focus on the positive.

  “Hello, everyone,” he said in a chipper voice as he entered the packed room. “Did you have a nice nap?”

  “Who the trek are you?” an older boy asked, sitting up. His black hair sprayed around his head. He was a few years older than Marie, by the look of him.

  “Ah. I see they didn’t watch their language around you. Hmm. What’s your name?” Trent sat down on the floor with his legs crossed, a nonthreatening position.

  “Why should I tell you?” The boy scowled.

  “Mhm. Okay.” Trent turned his attention to a little girl Marie’s age, clutching a raggedy gray blanket. There was no telling what color it had been originally. “And how about you? Did you have a good nap?”

  “Don’t talk to him, Suzi,” the boy said, standing up.

  “You’re not the boss, Terik!” Suzi yelled. She turned back to Trent, dirt splotching her angelic little face. “I’m Suzi and I hate napping. But they make us do it even if we’re not tired. They say that napping means we won’t be as hungry.”

  Rhett leaned in through the open door. “A black craft just slowly passed the bay. Let’s get moving.”

  The danger he’d managed to forget at the sight of the children drifted back, pressing on him. He threw a nod over his shoulder to keep the riled-up trooper at bay before turning back to the children. It was important to establish a pathway of trust, especially in this setting. Otherwise, the children might balk at any orders they were given, putting the whole group in danger. “My name is—”

  “Now, Hometown,” Rhett barked.

  “That glance was intended as silent communication,” Trent said through clenched teeth. “Give me a second to get everyone mobile.” He turned back to the children. “As I said, my name is Trent. I used to work with children like you when I was on Earth.”

  “What do you mean, when you were on Earth?” Terik asked, stopping a little boy as he jumped off his bed and ran toward the door, all energy and movement.

  Sensing that he had to gain the trust of Terik in order to have any sway with the group at large, Trent shifted his focus and body both. “I was kidnapped from the lab I worked in by the parents of one of the children. You see, they wanted to take their child off this planet so they could all have a better life. And we do have a better life in our new home. You will, too.”

  “So why’d you come back?”

  “I’m so glad you asked—”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Rhett said in a dangerous tone.

  “We heard that this planet was in a lot of trouble,” Trent continued, standing. Heaviness pressed down on his chest—the urgency to leave was at war with his need to appear calm and nurturing. “We wanted to help. And most importantly, we wanted to free the children. You.”

  “I’m hungry,” the little boy said.

  “We’ve got lots of food pouches on the craft.” Trent smiled. “And on Paradise, we grow our own food! So we always have plenty to eat. You’ll love it there. But first we have to—”

  A soft buzz in Trent’s head made him reach toward the spot behind his ear where his implant was located. That was a warning from the craft. “But now we have to hurry because the bad people have found our hovercraft, and they might want to do us harm. All of us.”

  “I know who Toton is. And they aren’t any worse than the other conglomerates, who just blow up buildings regardless of who’s in them,” Terik said.

  “Will they catch us, Mr. Trent?” Suzi asked with large round eyes.

  The little boy Terik had stopped broke free and did a strange little dance before grabbing his crotch.

  “No one is going to hurt you, Suzi.” Terik grabbed the little boy’s shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Oh, hmm. Interesting.” Despite the danger eating away at them, Trent couldn’t help staring at Terik for a moment. “The protection complex. I wonder what their breeding goal was with you.”

  “Let’s go,” Rhett barked. “We’re out of time.”

  “We’re leaving?” asked one of the children, a little girl of about four.

  “I say good riddance.” Suzi’s face screwed up. “I hate it here. I liked the other place better.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Terik asked, lifting a toddler out of one of the cribs. The other was vacant. Only five children occupied this whole complex, it seemed. So many security precautions for so few . . .

  Gregon really wanted to keep these children safe. The rumors about them being different had to be true. The question was: What made them different?

  “To a safe place.” Trent glanced at his screen. “Oh no. The black craft is back, and it’s hovering just outside of the bay.” He glanced up at Rhett. “It’s stopped. What does that mean? Can we get out?”

  So much for that calm and nurturing demeanor.

  “It’s just the one.” Rhett adjusted his utility belt. “We can blast it out of the sky.”

  “How many crafts can we fight and still have a chance at survival?” Trent asked, shooing the little boy in front of him before helping Suzi zip up her suit.

  “Three, max. And that’s if they don’t have any surprises Ms. Foster didn’t plan for.”

  “Do we have enough room for everyone?” Trent grabbed the younger boy’s hand. The child ripped away and then kicked Trent in the shin. “Ouch! Why did you do that?”

  “He always does that,” Terik said, taking the four-year-old girl’s hand.

  “With the two coming in from the barricades on the other side, and the one we left on the way in, we’ll barely have room.” Rhett spat onto the lab floor, which was uncalled for. “But we’ll make do. Let’s go.”

  Trent quickly bent, bringing his face eye level with the younger boy. “Please don’t do that. It’s not very nice. Now, we have to—”

  He barely saw the little hand before it slapped him across the face.

  “Good night!” Trent jerked away.

  “Here.” Terik handed off the toddler, but not before blasting Trent with a commanding stare that most men three times his age couldn’t have duplicated. “If you try to harm any of us kids, I will kill you.”

  “I think you’ll need to start training with Ryker, A-SAP.” Trent hoisted up the toddler, thankfully placid, as Terik grabbed the little boy.

  “Are you trying to get us killed?” Rhett seethed. “Let’s go!”

  Adrenaline fluttered in Trent’s stomach. “I wasn’t the one who left the craft out there for the world to see,” he muttered.

  They pushed through the doors and hustled out. None of the five children so much as glanced at the adults they passed. Instead, they kept their heads down or straight ahead, watching where they were going. They’d largely been left to their own devices, Trent surmised. They were being kept, but they were not being raised
.

  At least we got here in time. Focus on the positive.

  “I flat out told you they would know,” Kajel was saying as Trent emerged into the corridor with the children. “Didn’t I say? Now we’re trekked.”

  Trekked, Trent thought. Terik . . .

  It was an interesting similarity in naming. It made Trent wonder . . . He really wanted access to the breeding files.

  “Wait! Toad Man!” The energetic little boy yanked out of Terik’s hands and turned back the way they had come.

  “His stuffed animal. We have to get it.” Terik calmly grabbed the boy.

  “No way. We need to move.” Rhett motioned everyone onward. The troopers filed in immediately, followed more slowly by the facility staffers.

  “I think it would be smoother if we just went back for it really quick,” Trent said, stopping. “Otherwise he’ll certainly be a problem to maneuver.”

  “We gotta keep going.” Rhett roughly grabbed Terik and jerked him forward.

  “Hey!” Trent was pointing a gun at Rhett’s face before he even realized he’d snatched it off his utility belt. Ryker had rubbed off on him. “Do not manhandle the children—”

  Fire burst to life along Rhett’s legs, reaching toward his belt like a live thing.

  The trooper looked down with widening eyes, shock bleeding through anger. “What the—”

  Terik, face calm, yanked out of the trooper’s grip.

  The other troopers all froze with wide eyes.

  “Damn you, you little resource raper!” Kajel rushed forward, his hand lifted out to strike.

  “No!” Trent swung the gun Kajel’s way, suddenly realizing that he was drawing a very clear line at that moment. Soon it might be him and a bunch of children against a small army of armed adults. There was nothing for it, though. Striking children in anger was not done. Not on his watch. “Back off.”

  “I ain’t afraid of no small-minded hip chucker.” Gertie swung her arm to finish Kajel’s intent.

  Trent braced, ready to fire a warning shot, when suddenly Kajel, Gertie, and Rhett flew backward. They rammed against the wall, bounced off, and were then lifted into the air by unseen hands and slammed down on their backs. Their heads thunked off the ground.