Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 (Book 1) -
Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25: Part 4 – Chapter 40
The Elgen guards all looked the same to me. They were all nearly the same height and build and wore the same uniform: a black beret, dark glasses, and black jumpsuits that appeared to have been made from a rubberized material. They all had communication radios hanging from their ears and jaws, and they carried an array of weapons on a utility belt—a knife, a canister of Mace, two different types of revolvers, resin handcuffs, a smoke grenade, a concussion grenade, and a long wooden truncheon.
I was sitting on the floor looking through a shelf of books when I heard the lock on my door slide. I looked up to see the door open.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Vey,” a guard said. “But Dr. Hatch is ready to meet with you.”
I thought he sounded unusually polite for a prison guard. Of course prisoners aren’t usually given a room with a plasma TV, surround-sound audio, and Monet prints on the wall. My room seemed more like a luxury suite than a prison cell, but if there’s no doorknob on the inside, you’re still a prisoner.
“All right.” I stood as the door opened fully. There was a second guard standing a few feet behind him in the hall. The second guard didn’t say a word. I noticed that they both had their hands on their Mace. I guessed they had been ordered to be pleasant.
“This way, sir,” the guard said. We took the elevator down one level to the second floor.
They led me down a marble-floored corridor to the end of the hall and into a large reception area, where a secretary sat at a large wooden desk with several monitors. Directly behind her was a glass wall, partially obstructing another door. In front of the receptionist’s desk was another guard sitting behind a tall, circular podium with a Plexiglas shield.
The receptionist, a thin woman about my mother’s age and wearing narrow reading glasses, looked up as we entered.
“We have Michael Vey,” the first guard said, though it was evident she was expecting us.
“I’ll inform Dr. Hatch,” she said. She pushed a button, then spoke into her phone. She nodded, then pushed a button beneath her desk. There was a loud buzz and the door slid open. “Dr. Hatch would like you to go on in.”
The second guard motioned for me to go first, so I walked ahead of them through the open door. I stepped inside while they stopped at the door’s threshold. I was ticking like crazy.
Hatch’s office reminded me of the ones I had seen on the TV lawyer shows, with bronze statues and busts and cases of books I wondered if anyone ever read. Television screens took up an entire wall. Hatch was sitting at his desk. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. Nichelle sat in a chair at the side of the room. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t stand her.
Hatch motioned to a leather chair in front of his desk. “Hello, Michael,” he said. “Please, take a seat.”
I walked up to the chair and sat down, looking around the office. On the wall behind Hatch was a picture of Dr. Hatch shaking hands with the president of the United States. He noticed that I was looking at the picture.
“It’s not hard to get to the president,” Hatch said. “If you have money.”
“Where’s my mother?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed into thin slits. “To the point. I like that. After all, that’s why you made this futile little trip, isn’t it?”
“Where are you keeping my mother?”
“We’ll get to that. But first, there’s something you need to understand. More important than where she is, is where you are. And who you are.” His voice dropped. “Do you even know?”
“Of course I know who I am.”
“Yes, I know you think you do. But you don’t really know.” His gaze softened. “Who are you? You’re a victim, Michael. A victim of your environment. You have been brainwashed, your thoughts contaminated by the human Petri dish your mind has been cultured in.
“For instance, you’ve been told that all men are created equal, but anyone who isn’t stupid or ignorant can see that that just isn’t true. Some are rich, some are poor. Some are smart and some are fools. No, no one is born equal. Especially you.
“You’re not even equal to the other electric children. You handle electricity in a different way. And you seem to be getting more powerful. I compared your el-waves from now to when I first met you in Idaho. They’ve risen. It’s very impressive.” He leaned forward. “Do you know what we do here, Michael?”
“Kill babies with your machine?”
Hatch chuckled. “What an interesting take you have on this. That’s the one thing I’ve learned about working with youth—if you think you know what they’re thinking, you’re mistaken.” He straightened his tie. “You’re right, you know. At least partially. It is about the machine. The MEI we call it. The MEI may have been a failure as an imaging device, but it led to the discovery of something more important. Much more important.
“If you think about it, Michael, there’s a marvelous fate to all this. Many of the world’s greatest discoveries are results of accidents. The MEI was one of those happy accidents. We set out to take pictures of the human body and instead we improved the human body. We invented superhumans. We invented the electric children.
“We’ve spent the last dozen years tracking them down. There were seventeen of you who survived. Seventeen very special children. Sadly, there are only thirteen of you left—four of you died before the age of seven.”
“Died of what?”
“Cancer. No doubt attributable to the excessive electricity coursing through your cells. We can’t be certain, of course, but there’s a chance that unless we replace a cure for your condition, that may be all of your fates.”
I sat back in my chair. I had never considered that what I had was a disease.
“But I digress. I was saying that we had found all the survivors except two: you and Miss Ridley. Miss Ridley was adopted out-of-state and you know how inefficient government bureaucracy is. Her records got lost in the process. And you, well, we tracked you for a while, all throughout California.
“You don’t know it, but we’ve been more a part of your life than you realize. If you look through your family picture album, say on that trip you took to Disneyland when you were seven, you’re likely to replace a picture of one of our agents in the background. Then, right after your father’s death, your mother pulled a fast one and disappeared. We lost you.
“Actually, it’s quite impressive how she eluded us, seeing that you didn’t even know you were being followed. So we set some traps and hoped that you would someday come looking for us. And you did. Actually, it was Miss Ridley who did. But we never dreamed that we’d be so fortunate that she’d lead us to you. In this matter, fate was truly generous.”
Fate sucks, I thought. “What do you want from us?”
Hatch stood and walked around to the front of his desk, leaning back against it. “We’re scientists, Michael. We want what all scientists want. Truth. The truth about you. The truth about how you do what you do. We want to know why you lived when so many others died.”
“No matter what you call yourself, you’re just a bunch of murderers,” I said.
“So much anger in you, Michael,” Hatch said coolly. “But boys in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, should they?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid, Michael. We know all about it.”
I looked at him blankly. “About what?”
“Are you telling me that you really don’t know why you left California?”
The way he asked the question frightened me. “We left because my mother was trying to protect me.”
He laughed. “Protect you from what?”
I couldn’t answer. He walked closer to my chair. “So you really don’t know.” Hatch rubbed his chin. “I think, deep inside, you do. You must. No child, not even an eight-year-old, could forget something that traumatic. Your mother wasn’t protecting you, Michael. She was protecting others from you.” His eyes leveled on me in a piercing gaze. I was ticking like crazy, both blinking and gulping.
Hatch leaned back against his desk. “I knew your father. I knew him well. Maybe even better than you did.”
My chest constricted.
“Do you even know where your father worked?” Hatch asked.
“He worked at a hospital,” I blurted out angrily.
Hatch just looked at me for a moment, then the corners of his mouth rose in a subtle smile. “Good. So your mother didn’t hide everything from you. He did indeed work at a hospital. Your father was the head of radiology at Pasadena General.” Hatch slightly leaned forward. “He helped us test the MEI.”
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. “No!” I shouted. “He wouldn’t do that. He was a good man.”
Hatch nodded. “You’re right, he was a good man. He was a visionary. And, like me, he never intended to hurt anyone. He wanted to advance science and save lives. He wanted to make the world a better place.” Hatch’s voice fell. “Unfortunately, he never got that chance.” Hatch exhaled slowly. “I know what happened to your father, Michael.” Hatch turned around and lifted a folder from his desk, extracting from it a single paper. “I’ve been saving this for some time now, haven’t I, Nichelle?”
I had forgotten that she was in the room. “Yes, sir,” Nichelle said. “Years.”
Hatch held up a paper with a gold border around it. “Michael, have you ever seen a death certificate?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t think so.” He turned the paper back around. “Let me read the important parts. State of California, County of Los Angeles… Carl T. Vey died at 7:56 p.m. in Los Angeles County on the fifth day of October, 2004… Cause of death: Cardiac arrest from an electric shock.” He set down the paper. “It’s about time you owned up to the truth about your father’s death.” His eyes turned dark. “You stopped your father’s heart.”
At that moment, I had a flashback. I was sitting on my father’s lap. My father was grasping his chest, his eyes wide and panicked. Then flashing red and blue lights illuminated our kitchen drapes, and sirens wailed in chorus with my mother crying. It was true. That’s what my mother was hiding from me. I had killed my own father. Darkness filled my heart and mind.
“I was barely eight!” I shouted. “I didn’t know how to control my electricity.”
Hatch just stared at me. “Isn’t that interesting. We wanted to save lives, so we created a machine that could do that. Like you, we didn’t know better. Yet you condemn us—” His voice rose and he pointed at me. “How dare you call me, or your father, a murderer. You’re no different than us, not one iota.” He walked behind his desk and sat down. He looked calmer and his voice was gentle again. “But you can atone for this, Michael. Just as we are trying to atone for our mistake. We’re trying to do the right thing.”
“That’s why you’re torturing Taylor?”
The loud screech went through my head and I fell forward, grabbing my temples. “Aaah.”
Hatch spun around to Nichelle. “Stop it!”
The pain stopped.
“Get her out of here,” I said.
“I can’t do that,” Hatch said. “I don’t fully trust you yet.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“You’re still brainwashed from the outside world. Until you see clearly, I can only trust you to behave like a human.”
“I just want my mother.”
“Of course you do. Which, of course, is precisely why we took her. And whether you see her again depends entirely upon you. If you comply with my instructions, your mother will be set free. We’ll fly her here to see you, joyful reunion and all that. If not…” His expression fell. “If not, sadly, I cannot guarantee her safety. Even if I wanted to.”
I looked at him quietly. “What are your ‘instructions’?”
“Simple, really. Let’s call them demonstrations of loyalty.”
“What kind of demonstrations?”
“I trust you remember Clyde. You met him in the parking lot and you spoke with him in the jail, didn’t you?”
“How did you know that?”
Hatch smiled but didn’t answer me. “Clyde is, or should I say, was, what we call a GP. It’s a nickname we give our human guinea pigs.”
“Guinea pigs?” I suddenly understood why Clyde had reacted with such fear and hostility toward me.
“GPs are inconsequential—the coffee grounds of humanity. They are America’s untouchables, criminals and losers, none of them worth the carbon their bodies are made of. So, from time to time, we use them for the advancement of our scientific pursuits.”
I was horrified by what he was telling me. “Where do you get them?” I asked.
“From all over. Sometimes we pull them off the streets or from homeless shelters. Sometimes we replace them engaged in some kind of criminal activity. In fact we brought in two new ones just today. Would you like to meet them?”
“No,” I said.
“These, I think you will.” He pushed a button on his desk. “Bring GPs Seven Sixty-Four and Seven Sixty-Five to my office immediately.”
I looked at him incredulously. “You kidnap people and use them for experiments?”
“Well, the word people might be a bit strong but the rest of what you said is accurate.” He looked at me with a grim smile. “We’re doing them a favor, really. Out in society they would only self-destruct. Most of them already had. This way we preserve their lives a little longer, improve their standard of living, and give meaning to their pathetic existences. They are actually contributing to society instead of just staining it.”
A moment later one of the guards opened Hatch’s door. “They’re here, sir.”
“Bring them in.”
The guard signaled to someone outside the door and two other guards brought in the shackled GPs. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Jack and Wade. They looked terrified, especially Wade, who was trembling so hard his chains were rattling. They were both barefoot and dressed in Day-Glo orange jumpsuits. In addition to the shackles and chains on their legs and wrists they had large plastic and stainless steel collars fastened around their necks. The collars had green flashing lights. The sight of them bound made me sick to my stomach.
“I’m sorry,” I said to them, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry.”
Jack and Wade just looked at me with fearful eyes. I didn’t understand why they didn’t say anything.
I turned back to Hatch. “What are those things around their necks?” I asked angrily.
“Simple devices to ensure they don’t decide to leave us,” Hatch said. “It’s based on the invisible fence theory.” He looked at me. “Are you familiar with that?”
“No.”
“That’s right, you had neither a dog nor a yard. Some dog owners put special electric shock collars on their pets that will administer a mild shock to their dog when it crosses an invisible boundary. It trains the dog to not leave the yard. These collars your associates are sporting operate on the same principle. If your friends leave this building they will be shocked.
“The collar also monitors their vocal cords. If they attempt to shout or even speak they will be shocked. But I’m afraid it’s a bit more potent than that painful little wake-up call a dog gets. The charge these collars generate is quite a bit more lively and will completely incapacitate them.” His eyes moved back and forth between Jack and Wade. “Maybe even kill them.”
“You need to let them go,” I said. “They’re not part of this.”
“You’re quite wrong about that, Michael. The moment they chose to help you they became a part of this.” His voice rose and he looked at Jack and Wade with disdain. “The moment they violated our academy they became a part of this.”
“What are you going to do with them?”
“The same thing we do with all our GPs—whatever furthers our cause.” He looked at the guard. “Take them back to their cells.”
“You heard him,” the guard said to Jack and Wade. They turned and shuffled out of the room.
“How many prisoners do you have here?” I asked.
“Only a few dozen. Our Pasadena facility is quite small compared to the others. In fact, now that we have you and Miss Ridley, we’ll be shutting down this facility and moving elsewhere. Someplace where we have a little more… flexibility.”
“Flexibility to do what?”
He looked at me gravely. “We’re scientists, Michael. And we have a vision. We’ve been trying to create the perfect Glow. And we’re getting close. You and Miss Ridley are very much a part of our plans.
“We’ve tested thousands of DNA samples. We’ve run thousands of blood tests, searching for the one link that all you survivors have in common. We’ve even been testing diets and nutritional supplements to gauge how eating affects your powers. We’ve discovered that with a nonsugar diet high in potassium we can actually increase electrical flow.
“But you, Michael, are something else. Even without our help, you’ve been increasing your electrical capacity nearly two percent a day. At that rate you’ll be doubling in power just about every two months. In a year you may be the most powerful Glow of all—if your electricity doesn’t kill you first.”
“What do you mean, ‘kill me first’?”
“Like I told you before, we’ve already lost four of you to cancer. That’s why I sent you in for the checkup. You’re going to need our help. The doctors out there can’t help you; they’ve never seen anyone like you before. There are no medical books on your condition. If you want to live to manhood, you had better stay close to us.”
His words filled me with even greater fear. What had they found in my exam? Was I really dying? It was too big to think about and I pushed it from my mind. “Why did you take my mother instead of me?”
“Trust me, your mother would rather it had been her than you. Mothers are like that. Actually we tried to take you both, but your chubby friend ruined that when he showed up with all those people around. We only had time to take one of you and, frankly, better her than you.”
“But I’m the one with the power.”
“Yes, but as you well know, power, undirected, is worthless—an engine without wheels. It’s the old saying, isn’t it? You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. Unless you happen to have your horse’s mother locked away in a cage somewhere. Having collateral will make you much more… malleable.
“Take your fellow Glow, Tanner. He has an amazing power. He can bring down an airplane from the ground. The first time I told him to crash a 747 he refused. Until we let him see his little brother getting nearly electrocuted by one of your peers. It only took ten minutes of his screams before he was quite eager to help out.
“You know how it goes, Michael. The first time you resist. The second time you relent. The third time you volunteer. It’s that easy. Today, I tell Tanner to bring down a commercial flight and he says, ‘which plane?’ ” He looked into my eyes. “We’re creating an army, Michael. And you are a natural leader. You would make a very good general.”
“An army to fight who?”
“Whomever we need to fight. Whoever stands in our way as we reach for our destiny. Just think of the powers at our disposal. Just consider Tanner. He can bring down a jet airliner without a bomb, missile, or security risk. There’s no tracking, there’s no preventing. Sudden and complete mechanical failure and the plane drops out of the sky. Do you have any idea what his talent is worth? Terrorists would pay tens of millions. Governments would pay hundreds of millions. Or billions. Especially if that plane were carrying a nuclear weapon—or the president of the United States.
“And that’s just one of many of your graduating class’s talents. We just need more of you. A lot more of you.”
“What makes you think anyone will follow you?”
“They will and they do. Most of them have, at least. It’s amazing what you can do to a young mind before the rest of the world contaminates it. It’s you older kids, the brainwashed, who are the problem. Like poor, misguided Miss Ridley. I offered her the world and she spat it back in my face.”
“Taylor’s a good person,” I said, my right eye twitching.
“That depends entirely on what you mean by ‘good.’ If, by ‘good’ you mean shortsighted, ungrateful, and small-minded, then you’re right.”
He stood and his expression relaxed. “That’s enough for today. I’m going to let you stay in one of the guest suites tonight. You’ll be much more comfortable there. Unfortunately, for now, you will still be assigned a guard. Don’t get me wrong, Michael. I trust you. I really do. I just don’t trust the world you come from. Too much of it is still in your head. But we’ll work on it.
“In the meantime, if you have any seditious schemes, remember, your mother will pay severely for your mistakes. You shock someone, she’ll be shocked twice. You hurt someone, well, you get the picture. It’s beautifully ironic. For centuries the sins of the parents have been answered on the heads of their children. Now the opposite is true.” He walked to the door. “It’s time for you to go.”
I stood and also walked to the door, followed a few yards back by Nichelle.
“I’m giving you forty-eight hours to consider your predicament. I urge you to seriously do so. Lives are at stake here. You’ve already killed your father. Will you kill your mother too?”
His words cut like razor blades.
“And then there are your friends. If you choose to disregard my offer, Jack and Wade will be the first to go. Then Ostin and finally Taylor. It’s your call. They’re all counting on you to do the right thing. If you don’t, they’ll disappear one by one. Think carefully now. Are you going to lose a few of them before you change your mind? Or will you do the right thing the first time?
“As you grow older, Michael, you’ll learn an important lesson—that most people spend their entire lives wishing for a second chance to do what they should have done right the first time. Don’t be like them, Michael.” He smiled at me, placing his hand on my shoulder, which made me feel sick inside. “I believe in you. I know you think you’re doing the right thing by resisting, but it’s because your point of view is skewed. All you have to do is walk across the aisle and see it from our side. And as your reward, I’m offering you everything you’ve dreamed of. You’ll be the head of the electric children. You’ll have a life a rock star would envy. And you’ll have your Taylor.” He smiled. “Yes, I know how you feel about Taylor. And she’ll be all yours. Your little friend, Ostin, will be allowed to go home to his mommy and daddy. And your mother will be set free. And some day you’ll have the adoration of millions. All around the world, children will want to be you.
“Remember, history is made by those willing to tear up the last mapmaker’s map. Make history, Michael. You have two days to decide whether or not to join us. I dare say that these are the two most important days of your life. I know your heart may not entirely be in it at first; I don’t expect it to be. There’s too much brainwashing in there. I just want to see that you’re willing to commit. That’s all I ask. And for that simple commitment I offer you the world.” He turned and nodded to the guard. “Have a good night, Michael.”
“Let’s go,” a guard said to me.
Nichelle and the guards took me to a suite on the third floor. I sat on the bed and the door locked behind me. My head was spinning like a top. My entire world had been turned upside down.
For the next two days I was left alone in my room. Under different circumstances I would have thought I’d died and gone to heaven. The suite had a refrigerator and cabinet that were full of drinks and candies from all around the world. I tried some Japanese candy, Chocoballs and Hi-Chews, which were some of the best candy I’d ever eaten. Four meals were brought in daily, on plates that looked like my mom’s best china. There were menus for entertainment as well as food. The first day an Asian woman came to my room and offered me a massage, which I didn’t accept.
There were shelves of video games. The newest on the market, some not yet on the market, and some I’d only dreamed of. I thought of how excited Ostin would be to see them. I only wished that he were there to play them with me.
In spite of all the distractions, all I could think about was my impending decision. What did Hatch mean by “demonstrations of loyalty”? What would he require of me? Something told me that his “simple commitment” was anything but simple.
My second night, as I lay in bed, I made my decision. If they would let my mother and my friends go, I would stay. There was no other choice to be made.
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