Chapter 27

The voice chimed out its singsong message once more as if to remind Zane of the complete hopelessness it conveyed. "Intruders identified. Automatic pilot remotely engaged."

Zane felt his heart sink at the words.

Wawrzynski had played them again. He had never intended to let them leave New Vancouver unintentionally. He had always been one step ahead of them, predicting their moves.

Zane should have known these planes would have remote autopilot. And if he didn't, Jonas should have. But it had never crossed their minds. He was stupid to think they could have been free. There was no freedom in the world. A great sadness overwhelmed him when he realized the magnitude of those six words that had been relayed by an inanimate voice.

"He's sending us to war," he whispered.

"What?" Joseph asked, clearly taking a little longer to understand the implications.

"Where do you think the autopilot is taking us?" he said, louder. He gestured to the stack of email correspondence on his lap. "One of these mentions troop mobilization in Germany. Apparently they think they may be able to recruit them to their cause. That has to be where they're sending us." He raised his gaze. Joseph's brow was wrinkled in concentration, his lips forming words only he could hear. Marcus was gaping, his mouth fallen open at the relinquishing of their temporary freedom. Mallory was viciously staring at the cockpit, her eyes narrowed.

"How does he expect to contain us?" Daisy asked, picking at a frayed seam on her shirt. "He knows we're far too powerful."

Zane shook his head because he had no answer to her question. Joseph spoke up. "I thought we wanted to stop this war." Zane had no response for that, either.

Mallory stood up ferociously and stalked over to the ladder. Marcus, with a worried but meaningful gaze back at Zane, followed. The two scaled the ladder and a commotion could be heard. Zane sighed, wishing he could have just a few moments to ponder the implications of the recent events. But he knew he'd have to remedy the situation. Tensions were running high, and he was led to believe he was a great mediator.

He climbed the steel ladder, taking it two rungs at a time.

Mallory had Jonas by the collar of his shirt, her fist wrapped tightly in the fabric. Marcus stood nearby, his hands held out placatingly, trying to disparage Mallory's sudden flash of anger. She heeded him no attention.

Mallory punched Jonas, and he cried out in surprise. She punched him again and he fell to the ground, her fist untangling from his shirt. He reached up and felt at his face, where a bruise was beginning to appear.

"Mallory, what the hell?" Zane yelled, rushing to the boy lying prone on the ground. Mallory shoved Zane back, placing her body between him and Jonas. She was breathing heavily.

"It's his fault!" she screamed. "He turned that autopilot on! He's working with Wawrzynski to make our lives a living fuckfest!" Her face was bright red, the rage spreading.

Zane spread his arms. "He didn't do it," he said quietly, pushing as much sympathy and pity into his voice as he could. "It said 'remotely engaged'. That means it was turned on from somewhere else."

"I don't care!" she yelled viciously, a tear streaming down her face. "We left him alone and somehow with that big bulbous robot brain of his, he turned it on and programmed it to say it was remotely engaged to make us think it was Wawrzynski!"

"Does that even make any sense?" Zane asked, dismissing the theory for poppycock. Jonas wanted to get away just as bad as they did. He had been tortured, tampered with, and tricked by Wawrzynski for many years. Why would he welcome all that back?

"I don't know, Zane! All I know is I can't go to war! I don't want to die, and I don't want to hurt anybody. I've been on the run for too long in my life, I want to be free." She fell to her knees, her anger forgotten and replaced by sadness. "I can't fight anybody, Zane."

Zane sank down beside her. "I know," he said, resting a hand on her leg. "Neither can I." She looked up. "I don't know what the world out here is like, but I know I won't fit in. I'm too damaged from New Vancouver. But I won't hurt anybody, no matter how cruel this place is."

"You don't know what guilt and greed can make people do,"

"I suppose I don't," he responded. Behind her, Marcus helped Jonas up and back to the console, where he frantically flipped switches, trying to find the off switch for the autopilot. Zane feared there was none. "But you don't have to hurt anybody. We'll find a way out of this, Mallory. We have so far."

"No, we haven't. Everything we've done has been because Wawrzynski has allowed it."

Zane sighed. "Then all we have to do is show him we're not who he thinks we are,"

"How do we do that,"

Zane smiled. "We jump out of this goddamn jet."

Mallory laughed. Zane raised an eyebrow at her.

Zane stood up. Clearly, Mallory felt no desire anymore to punch anybody because she let him help her up without complaint. Jonas was still darting his eyes back and forth between the various controls.

When Mallory walked up behind him, he jumped in surprise and maybe a little fear. She chucked. "Sorry about that," she said softly, emotion heavy in her voice. "I was looking for somebody to take out my anger on, and there seems to be a shortage of Wawrzynski."

The left side of Jonas's face was a mask of blue and purple, the bruise already prominent. His left eye was beginning to close, and Zane had to wonder how much force Mallory had put into those two punches. But the constantly injured boy managed to chuckle, a spark in a plain of blackness. Even after being accused of betrayal, punched twice, having his shoulder wrenched from its socket, and being slammed at high speeds into a steel airplane, he maintained his witty outward demeanor, and Zane had to admire it.

"It's alright," he chuckled. "I understand. Sometimes you just need to punch something. When there's a convenient smartass nearby, he's the first target."

They laughed. Mallory seemed thankful for the forgiveness and appeared to have withdrawn her earlier accusations toward Jonas. She nudged his shoulder. "You are a smartass,"

He raised his hands. "Guilty as charged," he said, his eyes glinting humorously.

They all seemed to sense that there was no way to turn off the autopilot, but the mood managed to stay lighthearted. Mallory turned to Zane. "Were you serious about that whole jumping out of the plane thing?"

He shrugged. "You only live once," he said, smiling. Even if he wasn't serious about it, it was the right path of action to take. The only way to outsmart Wawrzynski was to make him think they were something they weren't. If that something was suicidal daredevils, so be it.

"Do we still want to stop this war?" she asked curiously, her voice getting quieter. Zane said nothing. "Zane, we can still save millions of lives."

"Are you suggesting we let Wawrzynski use us?"

"No," she said confidently. "I'm suggesting we prevent this war. Wawrzynski wants a war. We want to stop a war." She crossed her arms. "If we do this, we do it our own way." She sounded so sure of herself, so assured of her options.

"He's still got this thing on autopilot,"

Mallory's eyes widened. "You were the one who wanted to jump out of the plane! That solves the autopilot problem." She laughed. "Wawrzynski thinks he has a checkmate, but we still have a lot of moves left."

Her words punched into Zane's brain, conjuring up the mental image of the chessboard he had used to visualize his mental state. But now, it was not only queens keeping him from the end. There was a long line of pawns prepared to defend the king, Wawrzynski, at any cost. Zane realized this chessboard he was imagining was no longer one of his mental state. He had conquered that one.

This board was physical. To take down Wawrzynski, they had to force their way through pawns, rooks, bishops, knights, and a queen. But now Zane saw himself as a queen, virtually unstoppable. He was one of a line of queens dedicated to destroying the king. Nothing could stop them. "We have every move left," he whispered. "Anything we do now is unexpected."

Mallory gave him a quizzical look. "Huh?"

Zane smiled. "Wawrzynski knew we'd realize how many lives we could save by preventing the war he wants. That's why he's trying so hard to make us lose faith in ourselves and finally give in to him and his incessant meddling." The plane hit turbulence and Zane shifted his weight to keep his balance. "He wants us to give up. He expects it. He's used to getting his way. But what he didn't account for was how motivated we'd become, especially by seeing what he did to Anastasia and Jonas. They were two variables he never intended to introduce. Without them, we would probably have given up at the hangar in New Vancouver."

Mallory glanced at Jonas. "I suppose you're right," she said. "Anastasia was evidence Wawrzynski had no qualms about tearing apart families, and Jonas showed he wouldn't hesitate to tear apart his own."

"Without them, he'd still just be the psychopathic human scientist. We'd eventually just accept that we'd never be able to get away from him. We'd be back in that facility or cooperating with him, landing in Germany."

Mallory nodded. Zane lifted his head up. "So, in answer to your question; yes, we still want to stop this war," he said.

"So no landing in Germany?" she asked. "We're not giving in to Wawrzynski?"

Zane shook his head dutifully. "Never,"

"So what do we do?"

Jonas chose this moment to jump into the conversation. "I've got a lot of mechanical data about these jets in my microchip. With time, I could retrieve it. I may be able to turn off this damned autopilot." He flipped a strand of hair from his face. "Did you see anything about where they plan on attacking in those emails?"

Zane placed his hands on his hips. "No, but I didn't look through them all."

Jonas waved him away. "Go make yourself useful. I need a while," he said, closing his eyes. Zane saw his eyes flicking back and forth under his eyelids, seeing things only he could see. His back straightened and his joints stiffened, his fingers curling inward.

Mallory shivered. "That's kinda creepy,"

Zane was glad for an excuse to retreat from the freaky situation. "Yeah, it is, I'm gonna, um, go read some emails." He descended the ladder quickly, Mallory hot on his heels.

They found Daisy and Joseph in an intense conversation about who was more badass. It was just like Daisy. She could instigate anybody, even calm, nervous Joseph. Even in the face of a seemingly hopeless situation.

Daisy was laughing. "Come on, sweetie, I can fly," she said loudly. "What can you do, turn into an atlas? Lame-o." she flipped her hair sarcastically.

Joseph scoffed. "I can turn into anything," he responded. "Absolutely anything."

"But can you fly?"

"Can you turn into steel?"

"Do you have blue hair?"

"Do you have a dick?"

"That's not relevant,"

Zane chuckled. "Yes it is," he said, taking a seat beside Joseph and picking up the emails. Mallory gasped and looked over at him in surprise. Anastasia choked on a Froot Loop she'd been eating. Marcus patted her on the back softly, shaking his head.

Daisy glared at Zane. "Your opinion is not needed,"

"It is if I'm the most badass person here," he said, glaring right back at her, enunciating every syllable. He tapped his foot on the metal floor lightly, daring her to rebuke, to take the bait.

She did. "Like hell you are," she said. "You lose arms, that's what you do." She flipped her hair again. She averted her eyes and smirked.

Zane laughed, and altered the surface of his skin, shifting it, piling it in some spots, lowering it in others. He felt his hair lengthen and touch his shoulders. His legs shortened and his ears shrunk. He tore apart his clothes atom by atom, rearranging them, reforming them.

He stared across at Daisy, and she stared back across at herself. He smiled, but it was on a female face with hazel eyes and blue hair. Daisy growled in frustration and turned to Anastasia, reaching her hand for some Froot Loops. Anastasia, however, had frozen with a Froot Loop halfway to her mouth, jaw wide open.

"What the hell?" she asked, dropping the piece of cereal. Her red hair had been swept back into a bun, and the black roots were visible. Her black eyes watched him hesitantly, analytically.

He smirked with Daisy's face. "I'm a man of many talents," he said in Daisy's lilting accent, turning to the emails in front of him as the facade faded, his shoulders broadening and his hair shortening. Daisy raised an eyebrow as he shrunk a little.

He sensed that for once he had gotten the best of Daisy, and it brought him satisfaction. He found himself smiling broadly despite the tedious circumstances laid out before him. Daisy was completely silent, for once outshone.

Joseph leaned over to him. "First of all, I firmly believe you are the most badass person here," he said, his voice low enough so only Zane could hear. "Second of all, you still have that suit on and it's not doing me any favors." He paused and looked around. Anastasia had resumed eating her Froot Loops, but now Daisy was diving her hand into the box as well. Zane might need to ration again soon. "Third of all, protecting me from Daisy's crazy perceptions-" He whistled softly. "-I have never been more attracted to you than I am right now."

Zane smiled.

He turned back to the emails in his hands, a furious blush spreading across his face.

Anastasia shook her head. "Those two have got to relieve this sexual tension. It's suffocating me."

Daisy elbowed her.

The emails in Zane's hands were a mixture of war orders and possible points of invasion, but no concrete locations. He found himself getting frustrated, but he retained hope as the dates typed upon the correspondence became closer and closer to the present day. Facts became evident the further he progressed and his fingers flew faster and faster, his eyes skimming quicker and quicker.

He was unaware of the conversation still happening around him; his mind only knew the emails in his hands. His hair fell over his eyes as his head flipped back and forth to follow the lines of the font.

When he held the most recent message, his tension flitted away like a butterfly in the wind. His eyes found dates and words and numbers and names. Everything Wawrzynski had put into preparing this war was condensed into this email. Zane didn't know if Wawrzynski knew they'd taken these files. If he didn't, he was in for a surprise when they foiled his militarist plans. And they would, for they were the most powerful living things on earth.

In a matter of moments, Zane's brain had processed everything contained in the correspondence. It was a short message, but it told him everything he needed to know.

"London," he said, lifting his eyes to his friends, who gazed at him curiously. "They're going to attack London." Mallory's eyes widened. "If they meet resistance, they'll destroy everyone and everything."