Origin

Chapter 5

Katy

The moment Blake and I stepped out of my cell, two military guys surrounded us. One of them was Archer. Seeing his familiar face didn’t bring the warm fuzzies. He and the other guy were heavily armed.

They ushered Blake and me toward the elevator, and I craned my neck, trying to see around them to get a grasp on my surroundings. There were several doors like mine, and it looked just like the corridor at Mount Weather. A heavy hand landed on the small of my back, startling me.

It was Archer.

He sent me a look I couldn’t decipher, and then I was in the elevator, squeezed between him and Blake. I couldn’t even lift my hand to brush away the damp, cold hair that clung to the back of my neck without knocking into them.

Archer leaned forward, pushing a button I couldn’t see because of his mammoth body. I frowned, realizing I didn’t even know how many floors this place had.

As if he were reading my mind, Blake looked down at me. “We’re underground right now. Most of the base is, with the exception of the two upper levels. You’re on the seventh floor. Floor seven and six are housing for…well, visitors.”

I wondered why he was even telling me this. The layout had to be important information. It was like…like he trusted me with the knowledge, like I was already one of them. I shook the ridiculous notion out of my head. “You mean the prisoners?”

Archer stiffened beside me.

Blake ignored that. “The fifth floor houses Luxen who are being assimilated.”

Since the last of the Luxen arrived when Daemon and his family did, more than eighteen years ago, I couldn’t imagine how they were still assimilating any of them. My educated guess was that these were Luxen who they believed didn’t “fit” with the humans for one reason or another. I shuddered.

And underground? I hated the idea of being underground. It was too much like being dead and buried.

I wiggled my way out from between them, stepping back as I dragged in a deep breath. Blake eyed me curiously, but it was Archer who planted a hand on my shoulder, guiding me forward so I wasn’t behind them, like I was going to ninja-stab them in their backs with my invisible knife.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open. Immediately I caught the scent of food—fresh bread and cooked meat. My stomach roared to life, grumbling like a troll.

Archer’s brow went up.

Blake laughed.

My cheeks flamed. Good to know my sense of pride and embarrassment was still intact.

“When was the last time you ate?” Archer asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since I’d been with him and Dr. Roth.

I hesitated. “I…I don’t know.”

He frowned, and I looked away as we stepped out into the wide, brightly lit hallway. I honestly had no idea what day it was or how many days I had been out of it. Up until when I smelled food, I hadn’t even been hungry.

“You’re meeting with Dr. Roth,” Blake said, starting toward the left.

The hand on my shoulder tightened, and even though I wanted to shove it off, I became very still. Archer looked like he knew how to break a neck in six seconds flat. Blake’s gaze went from Archer’s hand to the man’s face.

“She’s going to get something to eat first,” Archer said.

Blake protested. “The doctor is waiting. So is—”

“They can wait a couple more minutes so the girl can eat something.”

“Whatever.” Blake lifted his hand in a way that said, It’s your problem, not mine. “I’ll let him know.”

Archer steered me toward the right. Only then did I realize the other military guy had gone with Blake. For a second, everything spun as we started forward. He walked liked Daemon, taking long, quick strides. I struggled to keep up while trying to absorb every detail of where I was. Which wasn’t much. Everything was white and lit by bright track lighting. Identical doors lined both sides of the endless hallway. The low hum of conversation behind closed doors was barely discernible.

The scent of food grew stronger, and then we came upon double glass doors. He opened them with his free hand. I felt like I was being escorted into the principal’s office instead of into the rather normal-looking cafeteria.

Clean square tables were spaced in three rows. Most of the ones up front were occupied. Archer led me to the first vacant table and pushed me down into a seat. Not a big fan of being manhandled, I shot him a glare.

“Stay here,” he said, then spun on his heel.

Where in the hell did he think I would go? I watched him walk toward the front where a short line of people was waiting.

I could still make a run for it and take the risk of not knowing where to go, but my stomach tumbled at the prospect. I knew how many floors were above. I scanned the room, and my heart sank. Little black dots of doom were everywhere, and the cameras weren’t so hidden. Someone was probably watching me right now.

Men and women in lab coats and fatigues milled around, none of them giving me more than a cursory glance as they passed by. I sat uncomfortably straight, wondering how commonplace it was for them to see a kidnapped teenager scared out of her mind.

Probably more than I cared to know.

We are here to stop them.

Blake’s words came back to me, and I sucked in a breath. Stop who? How could the Luxen be the bad guys? My mind raced, caught between wanting to figure out what he meant and not trusting anything he said.

Archer returned with a plate of eggs and bacon in one hand and a little carton of milk in the other. He sat them down in front of me wordlessly, then produced a plastic fork.

I stared at the plate as he sat across from me. A lump formed in my throat as I reached out slowly, my hand hovering over the fork. I suddenly thought of what Blake had said about his stay here—about how everything had been covered in onyx. Had that been true? The fork was obviously harmless, and I had no idea what to believe anymore.

“It’s okay,” Archer said.

My fingers wrapped around the plastic fork, and when nothing hurt, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

He watched me, his expression telling me he had no idea what I was thanking him for, and I kind of wondered, too. I was surprised by his kindness. Or at least I saw this as kindness. He could’ve been like Blake and the other guy and not given a damn about my starving.

I ate my food quickly. The whole thing was awkward on a painful level. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t take his eyes off me once, like he was on alert for shenanigans. I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do with a plastic plate and fork. Once, his gaze seemed drawn to my left cheek, and I wasn’t sure what he was staring at. I hadn’t looked in the mirror when I got ready.

The food tasted like sawdust in my mouth, and my jaw ached from the chewing, but I cleared the plate, figuring I needed the energy.

When I finished, the plate and utensil were left behind on the table. Archer’s hand was on my shoulder again. Our trip back was silent and the hall a bit more crowded. We stopped outside a closed room. Without knocking, he opened the door.

Another medical room.

White walls. Cabinets. Trays with medical instruments. A table with…stirrups.

I backpedaled, shaking my head. My heart pounded crazy fast as my gaze bounced from Dr. Roth to Blake, who was sitting in a plastic chair. The other guy who’d gone with Blake earlier was nowhere to be found.

Archer’s hand tightened, and before I could get completely out the door, he stopped me. “Don’t,” he said softly, loud enough for only me to hear. “No one wants a repeat of yesterday.”

My head jerked toward him, and my eyes locked with his blue ones. “I don’t want to do this.”

He didn’t blink. “You don’t have a choice.”

Tears rushed my eyes as his words sunk in. I glanced at the doctor, then at Blake. The latter looked away, a muscle popping in his jaw. The hopelessness of it all hit me. Up until that moment, I don’t know what I was really thinking. That I still had some say in what was going to happen around me and to me.

Dr. Roth cleared his throat. “How are you feeling today, Katy?”

I wanted to laugh, but my voice came out a croak. “What do you think?”

“It’ll get easier.” He stepped to the side, motioning me toward the table. “Especially once we get this done.”

Pressure clamped down on my chest, and my hands opened and closed at my sides. I’d never had a panic attack before, but I was pretty sure I was seconds away from one. “I don’t want them in the room.” The words came out quick and raspy.

Blake glanced around and then stood, rolling his eyes. “I’ll wait outside.”

I wanted to kick him as he strolled by, but Archer was still there. I turned to him, my eyes feeling like they were bulging out of my head.

“No,” he said, moving to stand in front of the door. He clasped his hands. “I’m not leaving.”

I wanted to cry. There would be no fighting back. The room, like the hallway and cafeteria, had shiny walls. No doubt it was the mixture of onyx and diamond.

The doctor handed me one of those god-awful hospital gowns, then pointed toward a curtain. “You can get changed behind there.”

In a numb haze, I headed behind the curtain. My fingers fumbled over my clothing and then the gown. Stepping out from behind the curtain, my body was hot and cold, legs weak as I walked forward. Everything was too bright, and my arms shook as I hoisted myself onto the padded table. I clutched the little ties on the gown, unable to look up.

“I’m going to take some blood first,” the doctor said.

Everything that happened next I was either hyperaware of or completely detached from. The sharpness of the needle as it slid into my vein, I felt all the way to my toes, then the slight tug of a tube being replaced atop the needle. The doctor was talking to me, but I didn’t really hear him.

When it was all done, and I was in my clothes again, I sat on the table, staring down at the white sneakers he had given me. They were my size—a perfect match. My chest rose and fell in deep, slow breaths.

I was numb.

Dr. Roth explained that blood work would be done. Something about checking out the level of mutation, a workup of my DNA so it could be studied. He told me I wasn’t pregnant, which was something I already knew; I almost laughed at that but felt too sick, really, to do anything other than breathe.

After that was all said and done, Archer stepped forward and led me out of the room. He’d said nothing the entire time. When he placed his hand on my shoulder, I shrugged it off, not wanting to be touched by anyone. He didn’t place his hand on my shoulder again.

Blake was leaning against the wall outside the office, his eyes sliding open when the door shut behind us. “Finally. We’re running late.”

I kept my lips sealed, because if I opened my mouth to say anything, I was going to cry. And I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of Blake or Archer or any of them.

“Okay.” Blake drew the word out as we started down the hall. “This should be fun.”

“Don’t talk,” Archer said.

Blake made a face but remained quiet until we stopped in front of closed double doors like the kind you see in hospitals. He smacked a black button on the wall, and the doors opened, revealing Sergeant Dasher.

He was dressed as he had been before, in full military uniform. “Glad you could finally join us.”

That nervous, crazy-sounding laugh bubbled up my throat again. “Sorry.” A giggle escaped.

All three guys sent me a look, Blake’s the most curious, but I shook my head and took another deep breath. I knew I needed to keep it together. I had to pay attention and keep my wits about me. I was way beyond enemy lines. Freaking out and getting pummeled with onyx wasn’t going to help me. Neither was breaking down in hysterics and finding a corner to rock in.

It was hard—probably the hardest thing I’d ever done—but I pulled it together.

Sergeant Dasher pivoted on his heel. “There’s something I would like to show you, Katy. I hope this will make things easier for you.”

Doubtful, but I followed him. The corridor split into two halls, and we headed down the right one. This place had to be massive—a massive maze of halls and rooms.

The sergeant stopped in front of a door. There was a control panel on the wall with a blinking red light at eye level. He stepped in front of it. The light went green, there was a soft sucking noise, and the door opened, revealing a large square room full of doctors. It was a lab and waiting room in one. I stepped through, immediately wincing at the smell of antiseptic. The sight and smell brought a wave of memories back.

I recognized rooms like this—I’d been in rooms like this before.

With my dad when he was sick. He’d spent time in a room very much like this one when he was receiving treatment for cancer. It paralyzed me.

There were several U-shaped stations in the middle of the space; each one displayed ten recliners that I knew would be comfy. Many were occupied with people—humans—in every stage of sickness. From the optimistic, bright-eyed newly diagnosed to the frail, barely even aware of where they were, and all of them were hooked up to fluid bags and something that looked nothing like chemo. It was clear liquid, but it shimmered under the light, like Dee used to when she faded in and out.

Doctors roamed, checking bags and chatting with the patients. Toward the back were several long tables where people peered into microscopes and measured out medicine. Some were at computers, their white lab coats billowing around the chairs.

Sergeant Dasher stopped beside me. “This is familiar to you, isn’t it?”

I looked at him sharply, only vaguely aware that Archer was glued to my other side and Blake had stepped back. Obviously he wasn’t as talkative around the sergeant. “Yes. How do you know?”

A small smile appeared. “We’ve done our research. What kind of cancer did your father have?”

I flinched. The words cancer and father still carried a powerful punch. “He had brain cancer.”

Sergeant Dasher’s gaze moved toward the station nearest us. “I would like you to meet someone.”

Before I could say anything, he stepped forward, stopping at one of the recliners that had its back to us. Archer nodded, and I reluctantly shifted so that I could see what the sergeant was looking at.

It was a kid. Maybe nine or ten, and with the sallow skin tone and bald head, I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the child’s eyes were a bright blue.

“This is Lori. She’s a patient of ours.” He winked at the young girl. “Lori, this is Katy.”

Lori turned those big, friendly eyes on me as she extended a small, terribly pale hand. “Hi, Katy.”

I took her cold hand and shook it, not sure what else to do. “Hi.”

Her smile spread. “Are you sick, too?”

I didn’t know what to say at first. “No.”

“Katy’s here to help us,” Sergeant Dasher said as the little girl pulled her hand back, tucking it under the pale gray blanket. “Lori has grade four, primary CNS lymphoma.”

I wanted to look away, because I was a coward and I knew. That was the same kind of cancer my father had. Most likely terminal. It didn’t seem fair. Lori was way too young for something like this.

He smiled at the girl. “It’s an aggressive disease, but Lori is very strong.”

She nodded fervently. “I’m stronger than most girls my age!”

I forced a smile I didn’t feel as he stepped to the side, allowing a doctor to check the bags. Her bright baby blues bounced among the three of us. “They’re giving me medicine that’ll make me get better,” she said, biting down on her lower lip. “And this medicine doesn’t make me feel as bad.”

I didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t speak until we stepped back from the girl and moved to a corner where we weren’t in anyone’s way. “Why are you showing this to me?” I asked.

“You understand the severity of disease,” he said, turning his gaze to the floor of the lab. “How cancer, autoimmune diseases, staph infections, and so many more things can rob a person of his or her life, sometimes before it really gets started. Decades have been spent on finding the cure to cancer or to Alzheimer’s to no avail. Every year, a new disease arises, capable of destroying life.”

All of that was true.

“But here,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “we take a stand against disease with your help. Your DNA is invaluable to us, just like the Luxen chemical makeup is. We could inject you with the AIDS virus, and you wouldn’t get sick. We’ve tried. Whatever is in the Luxen DNA, it makes both them and the hybrids resilient to all known human diseases. It is the same for the Arum.”

A shudder rolled down my spine. “You’re really injecting hybrids and Luxen with diseases?”

He nodded. “We have. It enables us to study how the hybrid’s, or the Luxen’s, body fights off the disease. We hope to be able to replicate it, and in some cases we have had success, especially with LH-11.”

“LH-11?” I asked, watching Blake now. He was talking to another young kid—a boy who was having fluid administered. They were laughing. It seemed…normal.

“Gene replication,” the sergeant explained. “It slows the growth of inoperable tumors. Lori has responded well to it. LH-11 is a product of years of research. We are hoping it’s the answer.”

I didn’t know what to say as my gaze moved across the room. “The cure to cancer?”

“And many, many more diseases, Katy. This is what Daedalus is about, and you can help make this possible.”

Leaning against the wall, I flattened my palms. Part of me wanted to believe what I was hearing and seeing—that Daedalus was only trying to find the cure for diseases—but I knew better. Believing that was like believing in Santa. “And that’s all? You’re just trying to make the world a better place?”

“Yes. But there are different ways, outside of the scope of medicine, to make the world a better place. Ways that you can help make the world a better place.”

I felt like I was getting a sales pitch, but even in the position I was in, I could recognize how powerful a cure for such deadly diseases could be, how much it would change the world for the better. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath. “How so?”

“Come.” Dasher cupped my elbow, not giving me much of a choice. He led me to the opposite end of the lab, where a section of the wall appeared to be a shuttered window. He knocked on the wall. The shutters rolled up, making a series of mechanical clicks. “What do you see?”

The air went out of my lungs. “Luxen,” I whispered.

There was no doubt in my mind that the people sitting in matching recliners on the other side of the window, letting doctors take their blood, were not from around here. Their beauty was a dead giveaway. So was the fact that a lot of them were in their true form. Their soft glow filled the room.

“Do any of them look like they don’t want to be here?” he asked quietly.

Placing my hands on the window, I leaned in. The ones who didn’t look like a human lightbulb were smiling and laughing. Some were snacking on food, and others were chatting. Most of them were older, in their twenties or thirties, I guessed.

None of them looked like hostages.

“Do they, Katy?” he prodded.

I shook my head, thoroughly confused. Were they here of their own volition? I couldn’t understand how.

“They want to help. No one is forcing them.”

“But you’re forcing me,” I told him, aware that Archer was now behind us. “You forced Bethany and Dawson.”

Sergeant Dasher cocked his head to the side. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“So you don’t deny it?”

“There are three kinds of Luxen, Miss Swartz. There are those who are like the ones on the other side of this window, Luxen who understand how their biology can greatly improve our lives. Then there are those who have assimilated into society and who pose little to no risk.”

“And the third group?”

He was silent for a moment. “The third group is the one that generations before us had feared upon the arrival of the Luxen. There are those who wish to take control of Earth and subjugate mankind.”

My head swung toward him. “What the what?”

His eyes met mine. “How many Luxen do you think there are, Miss Swartz?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” Daemon had once mentioned how many he thought were here, but I couldn’t recall the amount. “Thousands?”

Dasher spoke with authority. “There are roughly forty-five thousand inhabiting Earth.”

Whoa, that was a lot.

“About seventy percent of that forty-five thousand have been assimilated. Another ten percent can be trusted completely, like those in the other room. And the last twenty percent? There are nine thousand Luxen who want to see mankind under their thumbs—nine thousand beings who can wield as much destruction as a small warhead. We barely keep them under control as it is, and all it would take for a complete upheaval of our society is for them to sway more Luxen to their side. But want to know another startling number?”

Staring at him, I had no idea what to say.

“Let me ask you a question, Ms. Swartz. Where exactly do you think Daemon Black, his family, and his friends fall?”

“They aren’t interested in subjugating a house fly!” I barked out a harsh laugh. “Insinuating that is just ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He paused. “You can never really, truly know someone. And I am sure when you first met Daemon and his family, you never would’ve assumed what they are, correct?”

He had me there.

“You have to admit that if they were so good at hiding the fact they weren’t even human, how good they must be at hiding something as invisible as their allegiance,” he said. “You forget that they are not human, and they are not, I can assure you, a part of the ten percent that we trust.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I didn’t—couldn’t—believe what he said, but he had said all of this without an ounce of scorn. As if he were just stating facts, like a doctor would when telling a patient he had terminal cancer.

He turned back to the window, lifting his chin. “It is speculated that there are hundreds of thousands of Luxen out there, in space, who traveled to other points in the universe. What do you think would happen if they came here? Remember, these are Luxen who have had little to no contact with mankind.”

“I…” A shiver of unease traveled up my spine and across my shoulders. Turning my attention to the window, I watched a Luxen flicker into his true form. When I spoke, I didn’t recognize my own voice. “I don’t know.”

“They would obliterate us.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, still not wanting to believe what he was saying. “That sounds a little extreme.”

“Does it?” He paused, sounding curious. “Look at our own history. One stronger nation takes over another. The Luxen’s and even the Arum’s mentalities are no different from ours. Basic Darwinism.”

“Survival of the fittest,” I murmured, and for a moment I could almost see it. An invasion of Hollywood proportions, and I knew enough about the Luxen to know that if that many came here, and they wanted to take over, they would.

Closing my eyes, I shook my head again. He was mind-screwing me. There wasn’t an army of Luxen about to invade. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Besides the fact that you are strong, as is the Luxen who mutated you, and your blood could possibly help us come one step closer to a successful batch of LH-11? We would love to study the connection between you and the one who mutated you. Very few have been able to do it successfully, and it would be a great achievement to have another Luxen who could successfully mutate other humans and create hybrids who are stable.”

I thought of all those humans Dawson had been forced to mutate and watch die. I couldn’t bear it if Daemon had to go through that, creating humans that would only…

I took a deep breath. “Is that what happened to Carissa?”

“Who?”

“You know who,” I said tiredly. “She was mutated, but she was unstable. She came after me and self-destructed. She was a…” Good person. But I stopped, because I realized that if the sergeant knew anything about Carissa, he either wasn’t talking or he simply didn’t care.

A few moments passed before he continued. “But that’s not the only thing Daedalus is concerned with. Having the Luxen here who mutated you would be great, but that’s not what we’re focused on.”

I looked at him sharply, and my heart rate picked up. Surprise shuttled through me. They weren’t focused on luring Daemon in?

“We wanted you,” Sergeant Dasher said.

It felt like the floor moved under my feet. “What?”

His expression was neither cold nor warm. “See, Miss Swartz, there’re those nine thousand Luxen we need help dealing with. And when the rest of the Luxen come to Earth—and they will—we will need everything in our arsenal to save mankind. That means hybrids like you, and hopefully many more, who can fight.”

What the…? I was sure I’d slipped into an alternate universe. My brain pretty much imploded.

Dasher regarded me closely. “So, the question is, will you be with us, or will you stand against your own kind? Because you will have to make a choice, Miss Swartz. Between your own people or those of the one who mutated you.”