Kindred motioned for me to take it.
“Uh… hi,” I said at last.
“Name!” he barked. I almost fell backward—here was a man used to giving orders.
“Kai,” I said, still startled. “Kai Bradbury. And you are?”
“Vern,” he said with a nod of his hat.
“Captain Vern,” Churchill corrected him, and he looked mildly irritated. “The great captain. A man who needs no introduction… except for this one.”
“That’ll do,” said Vern, nodding. He was man of business, not civilities. The titles, the formalities, they were a nuisance to him. He gave Kindred and Sparky curt nods, which were returned with a curtsy and an excited headshake, respectively.
Tim stuck his tongue out and extended a claw, but Vern ignored him.
“Shall we board?” he asked, already turning and walking back toward the boats.
“Come on, Captain!” said Churchill, jogging beside him. “Don’t you care to stay a minute? Flex your feet on solid ground?”
“I prefer the wooden slats of a ship’s cabin. Solid ground makes me feel woozy after all these years.”
“Uh… well, of course, Captain… I feel the same way… with the woozy…” Churchill flexed his toes in the sand several times before boarding the ship. Phoenix and I followed.
The first boat’s insides were bland at best. A black table and chairs rested in the room’s center, and the windows were covered in thick, dark drapes. A single glass light fixture hung overhead. The room was clean but simple. A piece of curved glass served as its only décor.
Captain Vern offered us seats. “Come sit,” he said. He turned to Phoenix. “Where are the others?”
There was a knock at the door, and a guard pulled it open. Mila and Dove climbed inside. The guards glanced at Vern and he nodded ever so slightly. They snapped cuffs around Mila’s wrists.
Phoenix rose from his seat. “I thought you wouldn’t do this,” he said, staring at Vern.
Another guard ran toward me. I tried to dodge, but Vern grabbed me, and the guard snapped the cold metal cuffs around my wrists.
Vern smoothed his bushy brows. “You know the rules, Phoenix,” he said coldly. “You know what must be done.”
Chapter 21
Sage clutched the corners of her ragged dress as she walked. It was midday, and she was supposed to be in the kitchen, but she’d planned to meet Charlie. So she’d snuck out without telling Cook.
The paneled wooden walls told Sage she was approaching the chancellor’s chambers, and ahead, she heard his raised voice. The door must have been cracked open.
“…Don’t put this on me. How the hell should I know how they got it? You’re the one who let it get this far… We should’ve nuked the damn club when we had the chance.”
Sage stood outside the door and heard Miranda’s voice echoing in the chamber within. “You really are dim, aren’t you, Hackner? I hope the next chancellor has at least a quarter of a brain stem. It’d certainly be an improvement.”
“You can insult me all day, Miranda, but it won’t solve anything.”
“Why don’t you just drink? Or have you not got that charley horse anymore? Such a pity about the cramps, really…”
“Damn it, Miranda! I shouldn’t have to wait so long for my antidote.”
“Not my fault the girl screwed up. At least we know the poison’s working, right? I find it reassuring, anyway. And if you talk to me in that way again, I’ll have your throat slit. Or perhaps make you wait a week for the next antidote rather than a day… We’ll see what you think of your little charley horse then. I’ve got a meeting for you with the chairman scheduled at two-thirty. He’s traveling in from Oahu.”
“The chairman? Of what board?”
“My dear Hackner, he’s traveling in from Oahu—it’s the chairman of the Indigo Reserve Board.”
“Right, then… Howey? The one with the—the waterworks?”
She laughed. “He’s always been a bit soft, hasn’t he?”
“Like melted chocolate.” Sage could almost hear the smile on his lips. “What exactly are we discussing again?”
“The supply of Indigo. There’s simply not enough anymore. Not with all the attacks. We’ve got to raise the age—increase the lottery pool’s size.”
Hackner snorted. “You want more dead kids? That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. It’s about the Lost Boys and the Caravan. The buzzards are circling us like we’re a carcass.”
“And you wouldn’t nuke the nightclub.”
“If I wanted to throw this nation into chaos, I’d let the buzzards do it.”
“Then what would you have me do?”
“Meet with Chairman Howey. Tell him to raise the vaccination age to sixteen. Have him make an announcement to the public that the vaccine supply is simply too low to keep the eligibility age at fifteen.”
“And how exactly will that stop the Lost Boys?”
“Because,” said Miranda slowly, “the people won’t just see them as thieves who steal Indigo anymore. They’ll see them as thieves who steal children’s lives. The children who die as a result of going another year without a vaccination and having further exposure to the Carcinogens. And when more children die, the people themselves will take care of the Lost Boys… We’ll just sit back and watch the chaos unfold.” She paused. “The meeting’s at two-thirty, Hackner—that’s in ten minutes. Don’t keep Chairman Howey waiting. Lord knows he’ll start crying.”
Sage heard Hackner grabbing his things, and she hurried on down the hall.
“Hey!” he shouted behind her, and she knew his face would be full of contempt. She could feel his rage pulsating toward her like a heartbeat—after all, she was the reason his antidote had been delayed. “What are you doing around here?”
Without stopping, Sage turned her head and put her fingers just below her right eye, giving him the Federal salute, then deliberately walked right into the wall ahead of her. “I’m so, uh, sorry, sir,” she said, trying to sound out of breath. “It’s just—well, sometimes these halls get confusing, what with not being able to see—”
She stepped back, turned, and then strode forward, slamming into a different wall, even harder this time. Hackner burst into a fit of laughter. His footsteps trailed off down the hall, wandering off to his meeting, still chuckling. He always fell for her poor little blind girl schtick.
Sage hurried toward the prison. By now, she’d be late for her meeting with Charlie. Not that the prisoner had anything else going on, or even a watch to measure time with for that matter, but to Sage it was the principle that mattered.
On the way into the prison, she grabbed a bundle of rope from the supply closet. As she entered the cell area, Eddie, the two o’clock guard, sighed. His voice cracked as he spoke—too many cigarettes. “That time again?” She nodded, knowing he was looking at her rope. “Shame,” he said. “This one’s real purty.”
He handed her the keys. The retina scanner beeped green as Sage whispered her name, and then she raced down the hall to cell sixteen and pulled open the door. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered.
“You shouldn’t have told me,” said Charlie, laughing. “It’s not like I’ve got the time in here.”
Sage dropped the bundle of rope onto the floor. She heard Charlie kick it under the bed. “I’ve been thinking…” Sage began.
“That’s good,” Charlie said, nodding. “Thinking’s always good.”
“I think we should leave the day after tomorrow—two days’ time.”
“What?” Charlie grabbed her arm. “You’re sure, Sage?”