The door opens. The doctor I saw through the vent enters the room, his stocky frame wrapped in a white lab coat. Behind him is a straight-backed, barrel-chested man in uniform. He’s older than both Dr. Faust and Dean, with a wide, heavily wrinkled face and a gray mustache. General Lewis.
Dean sees him and salutes automatically.
“At ease,” the general says quickly. His voice is gravelly.
The three men look at one another. Dean seems manic, practically vibrating as he faces down the other men. Wes and I stay against the wall, our hands clasped together. Wes is tense, and I wish I could tell what he’s thinking.
“What the hell is going on here?” Dean finally asks. He sounds like he’s about to start screaming.
“This is not for your eyes,” Dr. Faust says. I can place his accent better now that I’m not hearing it through a vent: German, I think. Strange. The upward tilt of his mouth makes him look almost pleasant, but his eyes are tiny and shrewd.
“You both knew.” Dean’s voice is filled with accusation. “How could you do this?” He stalks to the window and slaps his palm against it hard. The sharp sound makes me flinch, and Wes squeezes my hand in his. “Those are children down there. This is not what I built with you.”
The general still hasn’t spoken. He looks at Dean thoughtfully. Dr. Faust steps forward. “The small children are better equipped for the machine, we think. They will travel more easily and your men won’t die anymore. You should be pleased.”
Dean’s face turns red. “Pleased? You’re torturing these helpless children and you think I could be pleased? When was the last time they were given food?”
Dr. Faust glances at the window. “Before they are ready, they must be conditioned.”
“Jesus.” Dean breathes. He turns to General Lewis. “You pulled me out of the field to come work for this project. You said it was close to my home, that I’d be near my family. You told me I would be making a difference. You ordered me to start a Recruitment Initiative, and I built it from the ground up. I thought we were doing something good. I thought you were a good man.”
The general’s mouth is a narrow line under his heavy mustache. “There’s a difference between being a good soldier and good man, Bentley. I’m a decent man, but I’m a great soldier. A soldier does what needs to be done to protect his country, no matter what. I thought maybe you had that in you. I was wrong.”
“Protecting one’s country doesn’t mean taking advantage of its most vulnerable citizens.” The fight seems to have gone out of Dean and he slumps forward.
“Sometimes it does.” The general steps to the side.
Wes goes still and quickly looks toward the door. He angles his body so that I’m behind him.
“Take them,” the general says without emotion. “Take them all.”
Guards storm the room. The general and Dr. Faust stand back, watching passively. Wes moves forward in a blur. He kicks and a guard falls. Dean throws a punch and a guard stumbles against the window. Another guard comes for me, his arms outstretched. I back up, and as soon as I have an opening, I kick him hard in the leg. He grunts and falls to his knees. I kick him again, in the side this time. He curls up, moaning. But as soon as he’s down, another guard is there. He wraps his arms around me and I struggle, punching and kicking and biting any part of him I can.
I see Wes trying to reach me, but three guards swarm around him. My attacker yanks me up against him and pulls a knife out of a loop on his belt. He holds it to my neck. “Wes!” I cry out, and the man squeezes me tighter.
Wes and Dean both freeze. There’s a pile of fallen guards at their feet, but at least ten more guards pour through the open door. Wes lets himself be grabbed, his eyes on the knife pressed against my skin. Dean lets go of the guard he’s been fighting and puts his hands up slowly.
The general steps forward. “Lock them up. We’ll figure out what to do with them later.”
Wes catches my eyes, a dark flash. It only lasts a second before the guards pull us from the room.
CHAPTER 20
“What about the reptoids?”
“What?”
“The reptoids. I just remembered them. Are they real? Can Tesla’s Machine connect to distant planets?”
Wes turns to look at me. We’re both sitting on the small bed in the shared cell the guards threw us into. They dragged Dean off toward another cell and we haven’t seen him since.
Wes smiles but doesn’t answer. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet planted on the ground; I have my back pressed to the wall, my legs stretched in front of me.
“What?” I nudge him with my foot. “I really want to know.”
“I know you do. It’s just funny.”
“If I think about everything else, I might lose it,” I say quietly.
He touches my leg. “Reptoids are not real. At least not that I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you.”
We’re silent for another minute.
“Wes?”
“What?”
“Do you think this is my fault?” I can’t keep the anxiety from creeping into my voice.
“No.”
“But if I hadn’t gotten involved, maybe Dean wouldn’t be in a cell right now.” Then I voice the fear that has been gnawing at my chest since we were thrown into this cell. I almost don’t have the courage to say it. “Maybe the reason he disappears is my fault and it always has been.”
“Lydia.” Wes shifts, turning to face me. “You are not the reason Dean is in this situation. He made a choice to get involved in the Project. He knew the risks.”
“If I had just left it alone …”
“Then something else might have happened to him. Maybe he would have found out about the recruits on his own. You can’t predict
