The Secret Sea (33 page)

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Authors: Barry Lyga

BOOK: The Secret Sea
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“Everyone will die,” he whispered. “No one will even see it coming. It'll just
happen
.”

Dr. Bookman quivered like a toddler with a fever. His teeth chattered. “We have to stop them,” he stammered.
“Now.”

 

FIFTY-FIVE

“Don't test me, Moira,” Zak said. “I checked it before, when you were tying him up. It still works.”

Under his feet, Zak felt the slowing of the superway, and Battery Landing loomed large in the windshield. He braced himself against the chair with one hand and kept the other pointed, unwaveringly, at Moira.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes had gone wide and staring, her skin fading to an even-lighter shade of pale than usual. “We're in this together!”

“Not anymore. As soon as we stop, you need to get out of the cabin and evacuate with everyone else.”

“Are you crazy?”

“It'll be confusing. No one will be worried about your being uncompanioned. You can get on the ferry and go back to Manhattan, then figure things out from there. But you'll be safe, at least.”

“Safe? Nowhere in this world is safe for—”

“Better than dead,” Zak said.

*   *   *

Better than dead.

She'd heard him right.

Better than dead.

“What are you saying?”

Zak shook his head. “We don't have time.”

“Tell me!” she shouted. Stun stick be damned—she wasn't going to let him say something like that without … “What are you planning?”

Zak's throat worked, and his lips moved for a moment or two before he found his voice. “I have to die, Moira. It's the only way.”

“What?” The stick. Could she grab it before he could trigger it? Were her reflexes quick enough? Were his slow enough?

“I don't know how to sneak into the secure facility,” he admitted. “I was lying. The Dutchmen tried planning it out on the back of the blueprints, but they realized it wouldn't work, so they decided to steal the uncharged stuff. There's no way in.”

“Then why—”

“I can't sneak in. And even if I could, I don't know the first thing about electroleum. But Tommy told us. Right when we got here, he told us we'd need a ‘massive energy source.' So I figured I'd take the direct route. Now I don't have to figure out how to get out, either. All I need to do is floor the gas on this train and plow it right into the secure part of the facility.” He grinned lopsidedly. “Boom. Instant massive energy source.”

Moira couldn't speak. Words failed her. On the floor, the operator grunted and thrashed against his bonds.

“That'll kill you,” she managed at last.

“But Tommy will live,” Zak said. “The way it should be.”

Moira stamped her foot on the floor—a childish gesture, she knew, but one she couldn't help. “Don't talk like that! Tommy's death isn't your fault! It was a fluke of science.”

“I don't expect you to understand. I have to do this. I have to save him.” Tears glimmered in Zak's eyes, and if he weren't being such an idiot, Moira would have allowed herself to feel sorry for him.

“What about your parents?” she asked. “Think of what this is going to do to them. They already lost Tommy, and now they'll lose you, too.”

“They've already lost me, Moira. We don't know how to get home. We don't know if we
can
go back home. Alive or dead, I'm still a universe away from them.”

“So you'll kill yourself? And him?” She pointed to the operator, who groaned pathetically through his gag.

“Don't worry,” Zak told him without turning around. “I'll let you go just as soon as you show me how to do it. It's the only way, Moira. The only way for Tommy to live.”

“Zak, that's crazy. That's … You can't think Tommy wants you to—”

“He probably doesn't. But I'm not asking him. Is it fair that I lived when he didn't? Is it fair that he's been trapped in limbo for all these years, seeing the world but unable to touch it? I've had twelve years. Now it's his turn.”

“I won't let you do this,” she said, clenching her fists.

Zak laughed. “You're the smartest, most capable person I know, but you can't stop me, Moira.”

As though the train had heard the word
stop
, it slowed further and then came to a gentle halt. Through the windshield, Moira could see men in what appeared to be security garb. A chime sounded, indicating that the doors had opened, and the men began pinwheeling their arms, gesturing to a stampede of commuters gushing from the train.

“Time to go, Moira.”

“Don't do this, Zak.” Tears in her eyes.

“Don't cry for me, Moira. Best thing I've ever done with my life. And I'm sorry you got dragged into it.”

“Zak…”

“I bet you're going to change this world,” he told her. Then he gestured to the door.

She ran all the possibilities through her mind in the two seconds it took her to cross to the door. There were no options. She left or she didn't. She could try to wrestle the stick away from him, but that would just leave them both trapped here. Once everyone was cleared from the station, those security guys would storm the train, she figured. Both of them either dead or arrested. Probably dead. No good.

If she stayed to help, she died. If she left, Zak died.

But Zak was going to die no matter what. It drifted in his eyes, in his posture. He'd approached his death, taken its measure, shaken its hand. He'd accepted it. Nothing she could do would change that.

At the door, she wished for something to say, something profound. But even
Three Basketeers
felt hollow, without Khalid.

“Good-bye,” she said lamely, and stepped out into the fleeing crowd before he could respond.

 

FIFTY-SIX

Zak yanked the gag out of the operator's mouth. “We've only got a few seconds, so let's make it quick. It's really simple.” He pressed the tines of the stun stick against the operator's temple, eliciting a whimper from the man. “Show me how to make this thing plow into the electroleum reserve, or I'll shoot a jillion volts of electricity right through your brain.” He was 90 percent certain that he didn't have it in him to kill the man in cold blood, but that trailing 10 percent didn't matter, because he'd lied to Moira earlier: He'd never tested the stun stick, and he had no idea whether it even worked.

“You're nuts,” the operator exclaimed.

“Sure, whatever,” Zak said cheerfully. He'd been at peace with his decision when he made it, back in Dr. Bookman's office. He'd known then that there was no way to save Tommy and keep his friends safe that did not involve his own death. But at the time it had been an abstract problem, a theoretical decision.
Would you be willing to die for your brother? Yeah, sure.

Now that the moment was right before him, he was pleased to find that he wasn't going to chicken out. A great and almost holy calm had swaddled him, enfolded him, sent warming waves through him. The world had shrunk to this tiny cabin at the head of the train. He was an explorer on the sea, and this was his craft. Ahead lay the edge of the world, the edge of the world and dragons.

He would live to witness their fiery breath, and not much longer after that.

“Do it,” he told the operator, keeping his voice neutral. It was difficult; he wanted to shout in joy. Wanted to explode with elation.

The operator fumbled at the panel. “You have to disengage the safety protocols and put it into maintenance mode, then—”

“Don't describe it—do it.”

“ATTENTION IN THE OPERATOR'S CABIN!” a voice blared. “THIS IS PDNY! YOUR TRAIN IS EMPTY, AND YOU HAVE NO MORE HOSTAGES! RELEASE THE OPERATOR IMMEDIATELY.”

“Not yet,” Zak said. To the cop. To himself. To the operator, whose fingers fluttered over the controls, swiping and tapping. Zak tried to pay attention but found himself fading into reverie.

Soon, Tommy. Soon you get your chance at life. Enjoy it, man. Make the most of it.

“WE WILL STORM THE CAR IF YOU DO NOT RELEASE THE OPERATOR AT THE COUNT OF TEN.”

Uh-huh. Whatever.

The operator, trembling, sweating, tapped a few more controls. “Look, you can't steer into the building. There's nowhere to go, no way out of the tube.”

“I want to go through the tube, then. Crash right through it.”

“You'll hit the air cushion halfway down the tube,” the operator said. “The impact will rip the tube open—”

“Show me where that happens.” Zak unfolded the schematic of the plant. The operator pointed. Zak nodded in satisfaction. The holding tanks were far from the point of impact, but the bend in the path there nearly guaranteed that the train's momentum would carry it through the broken tube and right into the spot he needed. He would most likely be dead by the final collision.

And then the electroleum would erupt. And swap out one twin for another, just like the roaches in Dr. Bookman's experiment.

Just then a flat, dull crack echoed, and the windshield vibrated with impact. The operator shrieked and dropped to the floor. Zak, stunned, stood his ground, his vision tunneling to focus on the sudden nick in the glass, right at his eye level.

He refocused beyond and through the glass. A security officer with a rifle aimed at him stood at one end of the platform.

Crack!
again. This time Zak jerked to one side, though it was ridiculous—he couldn't dodge a bullet. The windshield still held, pocked with another chip. The glass (if it
was
glass) must have been specially treated to resist collisions and the tremendous speed at which the superway traveled. It would take more than a couple of shots to break through.

“Hurry,” Zak said to operator, but the man had hit his limit. He shoved Zak aside and dived for the door. Before Zak could recover, the operator had slipped through, leaving it wide open as he tore through the car.

Zak checked the windshield. The cops had stopped shooting, and one of them was waving frantically. A moment later he saw the operator charging toward them, head down, arms pumping. The cops directed him toward an exit, and the man never broke stride.

Now they'd be coming for Zak.

He closed the cabin door and hopped into the control seat. He would have to hope for the best.

Scanning the control panel, he nodded to himself, took a moment to assess it, then stroked a finger along a glowing trail.

The superway lurched and began to move. Zak grinned at the stunned looks on the faces of the cops. They fired at him some more, but soon he was gone, racing down the tunnel to the end.

 

FIFTY-SEVEN

According to Dr. Bookman's Wonder Glass, the superway's 10 line was currently shut down, making a boat the fastest way to Battery Island. In the backseat of the car, Khalid and Dr. Bookman raced to the ferry stop at the Houston Conflux.

“Godfrey's power is substantial,” Bookman said quietly, not wanting to bring the driver into the conversation. They'd offered the man three times his usual fee to ignore as many traffic laws as humanly possible. “But it all exists in the nonphysical realm. He can't actually impact the physical world.”

“But he can get
us
to do it for him. Or he can possess people. Like he did with you.”

“Perhaps. I don't know if he can do that on his own. I let him in. I
commanded
him in. Without a wild scientist, I'm not sure he can reliably communicate with anyone.”

“I don't get it, though,” Khalid said, remembering the vision at the Houston Conflux when they'd first crossed into this universe. “If Godfrey is so powerful, then why did we see
Tommy
?”

Dr. Bookman hesitated before answering. “I told you before: Twins are powerful magic. They have a special connection, and I suspect Godfrey has been able to commandeer that connection.”

“I still don't get it. And besides, why would Godfrey want to flood my Manhattan?”

“He's trying to shatter the wall between life and death so that he can return to life. An electroleum explosion might just be able to do that, but it will almost certainly crumble the weakened wall between our worlds, no matter what. And from what I picked up during my … merging with Godfrey, he fully intends for
your
world to suffer the brunt of the damage. Our worlds are connected, like Zak and Tommy in the womb. If something happens in my world, it will have repercussions in your own. Godfrey will make sure of it.”

Khalid's head spun. He couldn't keep thinking about this stuff. Moira would get it, he knew. Zak could probably figure it out, if he let it steep in his brain for a while. But to Khalid, it was all mumbo jumbo. Dangerous-sounding mumbo jumbo, but mumbo jumbo nonetheless. He decided he didn't need the details. He had to stop Zak and Moira. Full stop. Everything else was extraneous information. Let the geniuses do a postmortem later.

Khalid checked the Wonder Glass. This was an older model, slightly larger and thicker, but still more svelte and sweet than anything from his world. It probably ran on some combination of true science and wild science, and it was connected (maybe through voodoo, who knew?) to Dr. Bookman's newer model, the one Moira and Zak had swiped. A positioning app placed the newer Wonder Glass at or near Battery Landing. Zak was probably still angry, but Khalid had no choice—he called the other Wonder Glass.

To his surprise, Zak answered.

“Don't hang up,” Khalid said. “Listen, man, you have to listen: Dr. Bookman's up, and he knows stuff. I don't get it all, but you have to be really careful and just get out of there. Now. That electroleum stuff is dangerous. You could get killed. Bookman says Godfrey wants to blow it all up.”

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