Polaris (32 page)

Milton appeared at the top of the ladder. The sight of his familiar face, so much like Marian's, lifted Jeth's spirits so high he thought he might float away.

Do it now
. Saar's voice suddenly flooded Jeth's mind like a dam bursting. Jeth's elation evaporated in a second, his agency following a heartbeat later. Time seemed to stand still as memories surged into his mind, ones he'd forgotten, ones he'd been ordered to forget.

Do it,
Saar commanded again, and Jeth was terribly aware of everything now. Saar had ordered him not to act until Lizzie and Milton were in reach, until he was on board the
ship with them. He was to lie in wait, a snake lurking in the grass until the perfect moment to strike.

“We need to get that implant out!” Sierra shouted at Milton, incapable of doing it herself with her hands still bound.

Jeth understood her fear. She was right to feel it. He wasn't to be trusted. He reached for the stunner tucked into his pants beneath his flight jacket. He hadn't known it was there. Saar had kept the memory from him. Until now.

Do it,
Saar commanded.
Stop them.

No!
Jeth screamed.
No! I won't do it, I won't!
Blood began to fill his nostrils, pool in his eyes.

Do it now,
Saar commanded, his mind a powerful, scourging wind.

And like it he had so many times before, Jeth felt himself bending beneath it, breaking.

His finger tightened on the stunner. The first shot struck Sierra, knocking her unconscious in an instant. The next two took down Flynn and Milton. With his limbs shaking and jerking he climbed up the ladder. Before anyone could react, he'd fired three more stunner shots: Lizzie, Celeste, and Shady. The presence of the latter two surprised him. But only for an instant as irony took its place.

Life had come full circle. He was the betrayer now.

“WELL DONE, JETH.” SAAR CLAPPED HIM ON THE BACK.

Jeth recoiled from the man's touch, his mind afire with shame and regret, the evidence of his own weakness. If only he'd been able to resist Saar, they would've escaped. But Saar had been conditioning him for this moment for days, weakening his mind and resistance, turning Jeth into an extension of himself.

And it was well and truly over now.

No, fight it, Jeth. Fight it
. The thought was weak, barely finding purchase in his mind, a space so infested by the enemy there seemed nowhere to hide.
Fight it, fight it, fight it.

Jeth closed his eyes, swaying on his feet from the strain. Saar, his back now to Jeth and pacing from one end of the
Citation
's bridge to the other, was too preoccupied giving orders to notice Jeth's effort. But Saar's inattention wouldn't last long, Jeth knew. And so he buried the thought deep, not extinguishing it, just hiding it as best he could. It was a fleeting hope, but better than the final, inevitable surrender.

“Have you found it yet?” Saar asked the soldier sitting at the comm station.

“No sir. It doesn't appear that she loaded the information
on the ship's computers. It might be on a private unit.”

“Very well. Search the passenger quarters,” Saar said. “If we haven't found it by the time she wakes up, we'll interrogate her.”

Jeth swallowed, dread pounding in his temples. Once Saar had the data crystal with the hidden code . . . but no, he couldn't let himself think about that.

“What would you like us to do with him?” another soldier asked, motioning at Jeth.

Saar turned, momentary surprise on his face. He seemed to have forgotten about Jeth completely. “Take him down with the others. It won't be long before we are ready to start.”

The soldiers escorted him out of the ship and back to the flight deck. The oncoming storm seemed to have stalled, but the sky remained dark and ominous, the weather uncertain of its mood. The effects of the Disrupter had also been rectified—the lights back on and the elevators in full working order.

The elevator descended to the detention floors, but then kept going. It appeared Jeth's friends and family were being held somewhere deeper in the facility. He was dumbfounded when the doors opened on a level of the Hive he had come to believe he'd never see—the Reaping Floor, the very heart of the Harvester.

Jeth froze in the doorway, overwhelmed by the sight before him. The floor was at sea level, the vast circular room hardly more than a platform around an area of the sea as wide as a lake. Rising up out of the water like the branches
of a giant tree were the Pyreans. They filled all the space in the center and reached nearly to the top of the Hive, twenty levels above them. The coral-like leaves that adorned the branches were all larger than a full grown man, and they came in every shade of every color imaginable—azure blue, moss green, burnt orange, taupe, indigo, magenta. There were colors that didn't have names. All the colors seemed to glow as if from a phosphorescent light. It was as if someone had taken pieces of every metagate Jeth had ever seen and combined them in one majestic organism.

But unlike the gates, these Pyreans were undoubtedly alive. They were moving, only slightly, but deliberately. It might've been the sea moving them about, but Jeth didn't think so. The movement was too independent, too random, as if each branch had its own idea of where it wanted to be.

Alive
. Jeth wondered how he ever could've missed it before. Seeing them like this, he could feel the life in them, the energy that made the air vibrate.

And yet, they were dying. The colors, though still vibrant near the bottom where the branches emerged from the sea, were faded to white at the tips and riddled with holes, like brittle, ancient bones. Death had slowly eaten its way through them, sucking them dry. The stench of that death hung in the air, the reek of cancer. Sadness gripped Jeth's throat, cutting off his breath.

He forced his eyes away from the Pyreans to the beams that arched over them. Six in total. Six chains locking the Pyreans into place with some kind of electromagnetic field.
Seeing the Harvester like this, Jeth realized how easily his mother's plan would've worked if they hadn't been captured. If the beams were to be destroyed, there would be nothing preventing the Pyreans from retreating back into the ocean, back into metaspace. The sting of failure heated his skin. Bringing him here was just another of Saar's punishments—rubbing his face in the reality of his failure.

“Move along, Seagrave,” one of the soldiers said, prodding Jeth from behind.

He hadn't realized that he'd come to a stop. Then again, he couldn't understand how anyone could pass by the Harvester without care or notice. Reluctantly, Jeth stepped into the chamber. The heavy security doors slid into place behind them, the locks giving a loud click.

A soft hum began to vibrate in the back of Jeth's skull as he drew nearer the Pyreans, following the soldier in front of him. The noise was unsettling at first, as if his mind were being invaded yet again, but after a few moments it brought him a strange sort of comfort, a pleasant distraction from the turmoil in his head.

The soldier led him around the nearest beam, and Jeth came to an involuntary stop once more as he spotted what was waiting on this side. His friends, still unconscious, were lined up in a row on the floor in front of the tank. Each one wore manacles on their wrists whose chains were bound to the safety rail around the tank.

A firing squad,
Jeth realized, his stomach churning. It matched the image Saar had projected into his mind again
and again nearly perfectly. For a second, Jeth was stunned by Saar's dedication to detail and ceremony. Milton once said he was a man who believed in his own righteousness. This was what that righteousness looked like. An execution staged to the last detail, designed to inflict the most suffering.

“Over there,” the soldier said pointing to the open space between Sierra and the beam. A set of manacles waited for him. Jeth stepped up to it, turning his back to the rail and the Pyreans. The soldier clamped the manacles around his wrists, and then left.

Jeth sat down and waited, knowing his friends would recover soon. He wouldn't be able to talk to them—Saar had willed him to be silent—but at least he could savor their presence, no matter how much being near them hurt.

Sierra was the first to wake, slowly stirring a few meters away from Jeth. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up, taking in the scene with a strangled gasp. She turned her gaze on Jeth, her face livid with fury. But only for a moment before pity rose up to take its place. A part of Jeth wanted to look away from her, to bury his head in his hands and hide from that look. The rest of him didn't dare squander what little time they had left, no matter what it cost him.

Sierra glanced away from him, turning her attention to the others who were also waking up.

“What the hell?” Shady said, pushing himself into a sitting position. Momentary delight went through Jeth at the sound of his voice. It had been too long since he'd heard it. He needed to say he was sorry. That he had been wrong. He
should've forgiven, should've given them a second chance. But he couldn't reach the words. Saar's control gripped him.

“What happened?” said Lizzie, rubbing her forehead.

“Jeth shot us,” said Celeste. “I'm going to kill him.”

“You might be in luck.” Shady pointed a thumb in Jeth's direction and every head turned his way.

Celeste's fury evaporated in half a heartbeat. “What's
wrong
with him?”

“The implant,” Lizzie said, her voice shaking.

“She's right.” Sierra stretched out her arms, testing the manacle's length. Then she explained what Saar had done with Dax's implant. “Jeth's been under his control ever since.” Sierra waved her hand at Jeth, as if testing to see if he was paying attention. “He has moments of clarity, but not much.”

“Well, isn't that great.” Shady balled his hands into fists. “Here we came to save his ass and he went over to the dark side.”

Flynn glared. “Lay off him, Shady. You have no idea what he's been through.”

Shady started to retort, but then his eyes flicked to Jeth and he swallowed. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”

“It's so awful,” said Lizzie. “You warned me about the implant, Sierra, but I never expected this.”

“Neither did I.” Sierra got to her feet, leaning against the rail to steady herself as the stunner's effects lingered. “We couldn't have anticipated Saar.”

“Is the damage permanent?” Celeste asked, her voice quiet. “He looks like he's brain-dead.”

“I don't know,” Sierra answered.

A silent scream sounded in Jeth's mind. He wanted to tell them that it wasn't permanent. He would be okay if he could just break free of Saar's control. But he was trapped, like the Pyreans behind him.

“But we've got bigger problems,” Sierra continued.

“Yeah, like getting out of here,” added Flynn. “Please tell me you guys have some kind of backup plan.”

Lizzie shook her head. “There wasn't time, and like you said, we couldn't anticipate Saar.”

Flynn's face contorted. “I hate that son of a bitch.”

Me too,
Jeth thought, and the hum in his head grew louder. It became rhythmic and strong, like a heartbeat.

“How did you escape Peltraz?” Sierra said. “Saar told us he killed Dax.”

Lizzie nodded. “I didn't see it happen, but I'm not surprised. The moment Dax knew that Saar was going to breach the Underground, he sent word to his Brethren to make sure Milton and I got out of there.”

Dax saved them
. There were probably a hundred other things he could've done in those last moments—he could've offered Jeth's family up in trade to save his own neck—but he'd made sure they were safe instead. A nameless emotion expanded in Jeth's chest.

“What about you two?” Sierra motioned to Shady and Celeste.

“Lizzie found us,” Celeste said.

Shady grunted. “She never lost us.”

“That's right,” Lizzie said, sparing a glance at Jeth. “I kept tabs on them after they left. I knew Jeth would come to his senses sooner or later. At least, I'd hoped so.”

“Don't count him out, Lizzie,” Milton said. “Jeth's still in there somewhere.”

Yes, right here.
So close and yet impossibly far away.

“Where are Cora and Marian?” Milton asked.

Sierra pursed her lips, not meeting her gaze. “They've got Cora locked up somewhere around here.”

“And Marian?” Milton pressed, emotion already rising in his throat.

Sierra exhaled. “She . . . I'm so sorry, but she died, right before they captured us.”

Both Lizzie and Milton stared at her, faces frozen with shock. Milton broke first, tears sparkling in his bloodshot eyes.

“What happened?” Lizzie asked, her voice shaking.

“She was shot by an ITA agent,” Sierra said.

Jeth knew she could've said more, a lot more, but he was glad she didn't.

Several moments passed in silence, both Milton and Lizzie choked by grief.

Sometime later, Milton drew a deep breath, reining in his emotions. “We need to figure a way out of here.”

“Yes,” Sierra said. “And I don't know how much time we have.” She turned her gaze on Lizzie. “Saar is looking for the data crystal. He knows about the hidden code. He likely won't kill us until he's found it, but after that . . .”

Lizzie's mouth fell open. “How does he—never mind. If
that's what he's after we're in luck. He'll never find it.”

Jeth heard her words and wanted to believe, but he knew at once that she was wrong. Saar's satisfaction was already bleeding through the link. He'd found it. Lizzie had hidden it inside an air vent in her cabin, the same way Marian had hid it on
Avalon
so many years before. The ITA had failed to find it back then.

But Saar hadn't been the one looking—Saar, who had seen all of Jeth's mind and memories.

Jeth tried to force his mouth open to warn them Saar was on his way, but it was hopeless. They weren't paying attention to him anymore, their conversation focused on ways to get out of here. Pointless ways, Jeth knew. And so he tuned them out, withdrawing into his head, finding comfort in that constant heartbeat that filled him up here in the chamber.

Saar arrived a few minutes later with half a dozen of his soldiers following him.
Witnesses,
Jeth thought. Saar was here to pass final judgment.

Jeth's pulse quickened. He took deep, rhythmic breaths, savoring the simple action like he never had before, counting each one until the last.

Saar came to a stop before them, sweeping his gaze over the ragtag crew of teenagers and one grief-riddled old man.

“Hey, you,” Lizzie said, drawing Saar's attention. “I know what you're looking for. I'll give it to you if you let us go.”

A smile stretched across Saar's lips. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” said Lizzie, her whole manner brimming with confidence. “You'll never find it without my help.”

Saar reached his hand into his pocket and withdrew a data
crystal. He held it out to her. “Is this the object you would help me find?”

Lizzie paled. “That's impossible.”

“No—inevitable.” Saar returned the data crystal to his pocket. “But I appreciate your attempt to barter for your lives. I would expect no less.”

Lizzie shook her head. “We're not done bartering. You need me to finish decoding it.”

This time Saar laughed outright. “That's hardly necessary considering you placed the cipher on the crystal as well. I imagine it won't be too difficult.”

Lizzie's face fell.