“That would be telling.”
“Yes. It would. So tell me.”
“I can’t,” she replied.
Anger surged through Jamie. “Why not?” he asked, his voice rising. He couldn’t help it.
“Because then you won’t come back and see me.”
“This isn’t a game!” Jamie exploded. “This isn’t funny! My mother’s life is in danger!”
Larissa’s eyes flashed red, then settled back to their dark brown.
“That’s right,” she said, in a voice like ice. “Her life. Not my life. Just a single, anonymous human life. What difference will it really make if she lives or dies?”
“All the difference in the world to me!” Jamie bellowed. “Tell me where she is! Right now!”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Such bravery,” she said, softly. “From behind an impenetrable barrier.”
“I’d open this cell right now if I could,” Jamie spit. “I’d kill you with my bare hands.”
“No,” Larissa said, looking at him with terrible sadness. “You wouldn’t. And you know it. You’re not a killer. Not like me. If you arrange for my release, I will take you to the person who can tell us where your mother is. If you won’t, or can’t, then I’m afraid you’re on your own.”
Tears rose in the corners of Jamie’s eyes, and he stumbled to his feet. He walked quickly, almost running, down the corridor away from her, determined that she would not see him cry.
Her voice floated down the cellblock after him.
“Come back soon,” she cried, her tone warm and friendly. “I’ll be waiting.”
14
By the time he stepped out of the elevator on Level 0, Jamie had more or less pulled himself together. His eyes were red, but that was as much a result of rubbing them dry as it was the tears that had spilled from them. A soldier in black armor walked down the corridor toward him, and Jamie asked if he knew where he could find Admiral Seward. The soldier looked surprised by the request, but he told him where the Head’s quarters could be found. Jamie thanked him, then made his way down a gray corridor that looked like all the others.
In front of the door to Admiral Seward’s quarters was another soldier, his black uniform covered in armor plates and webbing, the purple visor of his helmet lowered over his face. He saw Jamie as soon as he turned the corner.
“Identify yourself,” the soldier said. He did not raise his gun, but his right index finger rested steadily on the outside of the trigger guard.
“I’m Jamie Carpenter,” he replied.
The soldier distanced his finger from the trigger, reached up, and flipped open the purple visor.
My God. He’s only a few years older than me.
“Say again,” the guard said, a strange look on his face, a look that Jamie didn’t like at all.
“I’m Jamie Carpenter,” he repeated.
Disgust curdled on the guard’s face. He strode down the corridor toward him, and Jamie took a step backward, his hands rising involuntarily in front of him in a placatory gesture. The soldier backed him against the wall, and leaned in until his face was inches from Jamie’s own.
“Carpenter?” the guard hissed. “Is that what you said? Carpenter?”
Terrified, and incredibly aware of the heavy black gun hanging inches from his body, Jamie nodded.
“And you have the nerve to be standing here? In this building?”
Jamie didn’t reply; he was too scared to speak. He stared straight into the cold, hard face of the guard, then a voice he recognized called down the corridor.
“Stand down, soldier.”
The guard and Jamie looked in the direction of the voice, their heads turning in unison. Admiral Seward stood in the open door to his quarters. Behind him, looming above the director, was the enormous shape of Frankenstein.
The soldier stood up straight but did not back away.
“Sir, I must protest,” he began. “This is the son of-”
“I know perfectly well who he is, Private,” interrupted Seward. “Now stand down, son. That is a direct order.”
The guard stepped back into the middle of the corridor and stood to attention, facing the admiral. His face wore a look of blazing anger, but he said nothing more.
Seward stepped out into the corridor, holding the door open. “Come in, Mr. Carpenter,” he said. “We have much to discuss.”
Admiral Seward sat behind the long desk on one side of the room, while Jamie and Frankenstein occupied the two armchairs next to the fireplace. Jamie glanced at the huge man next to him, who favored him with a thin smile.
“Jamie Carpenter,” said Seward. “I would like to welcome you to the headquarters of Department 19. Or Blacklight, as it has always been called by those who are aware of its existence.”
Blacklight. I feel like I’ve heard that word before, a long time ago. Blacklight.
Then a strange thought arrived, unbidden, in Jamie’s mind. It feels like home.
There was a long silence, then Admiral Seward continued. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby. You look like your father, has anyone ever told you that?”
“My mother,” replied Jamie.
“Of course,” said the admiral. “I’m sorry to hear what has happened to her. She was a fine woman.”
“She still is,” said Jamie, staring at the director of Department 19.
Seward moved a pile of papers from one side of the desk to the other, nervously. He seemed unwilling to meet Jamie’s gaze, and this infuriated the teenager.
Look at me, old man. It’s the least you can do. Look at me.
Frankenstein, as if able to read Jamie’s thoughts, reached out and placed an enormous hand on his arm. The message was clear: Stay calm.
“Sir,” Jamie said, as politely as he could manage, and when Seward looked up, he continued. “Why did the guard outside in the corridor have a go at me? I haven’t done anything.”
The admiral looked at him, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and said, “Don’t worry about that. It’s not important. We need to focus on what we are going to do with you now.”
“Let me look for my mother,” Jamie said, instantly.
“Out of the question,” Seward replied. “We have no idea where she is, or even if she…” he trailed off, and straightened a line of pencils that lay in the middle of his desk.
“If you won’t help me,” said Jamie, his voice low, “I’ll do it on my own. Let me out of here, and I’ll find her myself.”
“I can’t do that,” replied Seward. “We’re taking you off the grid.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that in a little over forty-eight hours there will be no record that you ever existed. It’s for your own safety, and the safety of anyone you’ve ever been in contact with.”
Jamie’s head swam.
“You’re erasing me?” he asked, incredulous. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Seward nodded. “It’s standard procedure in a case like this. Alexandru may try to get to you through people you have known. And his existence, and that of others like him, must remain secret. It’s our top priority.”
Anger flashed across Jamie’s face. “My mother is my top priority,” he growled. “I don’t give a damn about yours.”
“You see?” said Seward, looking helplessly at Frankenstein. “How am I supposed to…” He hesitated, then
