Chapter 37

They tied up the oddly small man in the corner of the room with elastics that had previously held the maps together. They were wound around and around and dug into his flesh, making him whimper. He didn't fight them, which could be an indication that he was willing to give them what they wanted, or a desperate ruse to save his life, like the girl.

Before doing anything else, Zane rushed over to Jonas, who had recently begun to stir. His hand was placed palm down on the glass-covered floor, and he grunted as he tried to stand up. His eyes were closed and Zane could tell he was in immense pain.

Zane looped an arm around Jonas's midsection and hauled him to his feet. The boy gratefully wrapped an arm around Zane as his feet staggered and threatened to give away underneath him. He made a vain attempt to chuckle. "For your information, getting chucked into a glass wall doesn't feel too hot,"

Zane snorted. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Jonas made the universal hand gesture for a little; his index finger lowered just slightly above his thumb. "Maybe a bit on my part," he said. "Although I never intended to test my theory."

"Well, congratulations," Zane said. "You successfully tested and disproved your theory. You're a scientist now."

"Smartass,"

"Guilty as charged,"

"You can be a pain, you know that?"

"That is the word on the street,"

"Anything broken?"

"Just my sense of pride,"

Zane rolled his eyes and lowered Jonas to the ground next to Trip's slumped unconscious form. There was nothing they could do but wait for Trip to wake up. And when he did, he'd get quite the shock. They were definitely not schoolkids and they had definitely not wanted to look at maps. Zane imagined the look on the guy's face, and giggled.

Jonas glanced past Zane, and frowned. "Destruction of property," he reprimanded. "We're felons." His brown eyes widened in mock surprise and his foot began to tap, withdrawing relevant information almost involuntarily. The microchip had become a part of him just like this power had become a part of Zane. Guilty by association.

Zane scoffed. "And we weren't felons when we assaulted government soldiers, stole a fucking plane, violated British airspace, and snuck into a foreign embassy to 'arrest'-" he made air quotes. "-government-sanctioned assassins?"

Jonas smiled. "Nope," he said. "Wrecking some maps is far more illegal,"

"I don't think you can accurately measure how illegal something is," Zane told him.

"Oh, I think there is," the boy said to him. "It's illegal to steal a bag of chips. It's very illegal to rob someone of their rights as human beings."

"Stipulated," Zane responded, rolling his eyes.

Jonas chuckled and propped himself up higher, then turned and fistbumped Trip's limp hand beside him. "Crippled buds,"

Zane rolled his eyes again.

Mallory and Marcus were already beginning to furiously berate the man with questions, prominent among them how Wawrzynski managed to find them. Zane knew they'd get no concrete answer, so he partially tuned out their questions and his responses.

Daisy and Anastasia were talking in hushed tones down an aisle spilled full of maps. Zane veered clear, not interested in interrupting their conversation.

Instead, he found Joseph.

The broad boy had returned his skin back to normal, and his hair had lost its wave, his shirt and pants their wrinkles. His eyes were blue again, the startling blue that Zane loved and admired. A line of stubble along his chin stood out in the stark light, and Zane found he hadn't shaved recently either, but his stubble was less visible as it was the same color as his hair; golden blond. A small tear in Joseph's shirt showed a sliver of his chest, and Zane wanted to tear the shirt right off. Priorities, Zane, he told himself.

"Hey," Joseph said, flicking his fingers along the spines of files. He muttered things under his breath that Zane couldn't hear. He rubbed a hand across his stubble in concentration. "How's Jonas?"

Zane took a deep breath. "He's fine. Fine enough to make horrendous jokes." Joseph chuckled, pulling files out halfway to read the title and description. Zane continued. "Trip hasn't woken up yet, though."

"He got a pretty good bonk. I don't think he'll be up for a while,"

Joseph pulled out a file labelled Instatement of New Vancouver as a Self-Sufficient and Self-Dependent State. He opened it up, collapsing to the floor and crossing his legs. Zane lowered himself as well, and their knees collided. Neither boy seemed to mind.

"What are you doing?" Zane asked.

"Looking for an answer to a very big question that has been bothering me since Wawrzynski injected us," he said, licking his fingers and flipping pages.

"And that would be?" Zane cocked his head.

"What motivated him to create biological weapons and plan to decimate the entire planet?" Joseph answered. "Simply because he wants power or fame is not good enough. Something this large requires hatred. Pure and real hatred."

"Who could he possibly despise that much?" Zane asked, resting a hand on Joseph's knee and leaning forward, but he still couldn't read the file. He kept his hand where it was. Joseph didn't seem to mind. The boy simply continued to rub his chin in thought.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he told Zane confidently. "There had to be something. With the level of his commitment to his plans and his desire to completely eradicate us, I doubt he's a psychopath." Zane's index finger began to trace circles over Joseph's kneecap.

"Isn't that what a psychopath is?" Zane asked, laughing nervously. "Relentless pursuit and an urge to destroy things?"

"No," Joseph told him, leaving no room for argument. "A psychopath is someone who repeats the same process over and over and expects a different result. It makes them predictable." He flipped another page. "Wawrzynski is most assuredly not predictable, and he's never tried the same thing twice to either bring us back or kill us. It's always something else."

Zane cringed. He had been looking for ways to distinguish Wawrzynski from them, make him seem alien, and that was one of his arguments shot out of the sky.

Joseph jumped, his body jarring. "I've got it!" he exclaimed proudly.

"What is it?" Zane asked. "What did you find?"

Joseph calmed down enough to show him the file. It was a United Nations Security Council report for an appeal; all five members had vetoed the appeal. Upon closer examination, Zane noticed Wawrzynski's name multiple times throughout the page. "What is it?" he asked, not wanting to read the whole thing.

"This is dated twenty-three years ago, a year after New Vancouver was formed and enclosed," he said. "Apparently the Prime Minister of Canada was sent in for the first year to oversee the progress and law development of the city. It is, after all, still a part of Canada. This is an appeal from the Prime Minister to be removed and get back to running his country."

Zane released a deep breath. "So you're telling me Wawrzynski was the Prime Minister of Canada?" He shook his head. He shouldn't be astonished that Wawrzynski had lied once again, but he struggled to take it in stride.

"Technically, he still is," Joseph said. "The five members of the Security Council vetoed his appeal to be removed, stating that New Vancouver needed further development. An impromptu Prime Minister would be placed in power until he returned, which he still hasn't."

Zane had trouble absorbing this information. "What are you saying?"

Joseph sighed, as if Zane was too stupid to understand. "Wawrzynski was elected in by a majority vote," he said. "Almost all of Canada was disappointed when he didn't come back. If he retakes his position, the country will be behind him, and it'll take little motivation to spurn them into war. If Wawrzynski tells them of the Security Council's vetoes of his appeal, he'll have the full support of Canada and one of the most prestigious militaries in the world, including his arsenal of biological weapons. He'll be insanely powerful."

Zane had only recently found out that Wawrzynski was a governor of New Vancouver, and now he was supposed to believe the man was also the true Prime Minister of Canada? Daisy had been right; the world was complicated and confusing, and he was a fool to think he could understand it. But he would at least accomplish one thing today; understand Wawrzynski.

"So, he went from being the most powerful man in the country, one of the most powerful in the world, to not even being the most powerful in a city?" Zane asked, accepting the file as Joseph offered it to him.

"Yes," Joseph said.

Zane was still slightly confused. "But if Canada is part of the United Nations as well, would Wawrzynski not be compelled to keep peace no matter what? Isn't that what the United Nations does?"

Joseph nodded. He scratched his chin again. His silver ring sparked and flung concentrated light into Zane's eyes. "They are, but if Wawrzynski becomes the Prime Minister again, nothing could stop him from sending his people to war, especially if he's convinced he'll win."

Zane sighed. "In a nuclear, biological war, I doubt that anyone wins," he murmured softly.

Joseph stood up, one of his knees cracking as he gasped at the sharp pain. He massaged his legs as he shuffled his weight from foot to foot, his eyes endlessly perusing the rows upon rows of files on the shelves before drifting to those scattered across the floor. He frowned. "We've got to find a way to stop him," he said assuredly. "Even if he doesn't get full support from his own country, he'll wipe out everyone who opposes him. He has the tools to do so."

Zane's eyes scanned the document before him. "Whatever happens next, we're his top priority. We're the biggest threat to his plans. But I assume, if he either catches us, kills us, or gives up on us, he'll focus on the Security Council members. They're the reason he had to stay away from his country for twenty-four years."

"We have to tell somebody about this," Joseph said.

"Who is going to believe us, Joseph?" Zane demanded. "We have no identification whatsoever. According to records, we don't exist, and the others are probably listed as dead. If we go to, say, the British government with this, do you think they'll believe five ghosts and two boys who never existed?"

Joseph sighed. "We can't let this information stay between us," he said. "Whatever happens next, we need a way to verify who we are so people will believe us."

"If I'm correct, Joseph, there hasn't been a world war for over a century. What makes you think, even with a way to identify ourselves, that they'll listen to what we say and act accordingly?"

"If they don't listen, we'll be proven right eventually," Joseph said darkly. "Wawrzynski won't stay silent forever. And neither will Japan." He walked past Zane. "I'm willing to try anything to prevent this war, even if it makes me look crazy in front of the whole world. I thought you would too." He turned back, looking over his shoulder. "Evidently, I was wrong."

Zane mentally slapped himself.

He got to his feet shakily, his adrenaline pumping both from the fight with the crazed girl and the brazen rush of information thrown at him. He mentally ran over a list of things he had learned in the last day. Wawrzynski had other experiments, subjects like Zane who had also survived the procedure. Wawrzynski was the Prime Minister of Canada, if not in reality then in law and spirit. He could retake his position and send Canada to war. Joseph was willing to commit wholly to his effort of stopping the war. Zane wanted to believe him, and wanted to go through it with him.

Then a thought struck Zane. He and Joseph had simply assumed Canada would meekly roll over and accept Wawrzynski back as Prime Minister. But from multiple records he'd seen lying around the floor, and what Marlene had told him, Canada's last two decades had been its most prosperous times, with extreme economic advances and gargantuan efforts to preserve and create wilderness. Canada was among the foremost members of FEPE because of their abundant natural areas and species protection policies.

So why, if Wawrzynski came back, would they welcome him and his ideas of war back? Sure, he could retake the position by force and law, but it would likely cause many riots and protests. His policy of war would throw all their economic advances down the toilet, and Zane had no doubt their natural areas would be used for testing Wawrzynski's nuclear and biological weapons.

Wawrzynski may not have considered this either because he had no outside contacts that Zane knew of. Suddenly Wawrzynski seemed far less of a threat. His own country might reject him. Zane's country might reject Wawrzynski. It made Zane feel proud to be Canadian. He smiled.

But right now, Wawrzynski was safely ensconced in New Vancouver whilst he sent out assassins to murder Zane and his friends. That was the current problem. Zane pushed everything else away. He knew for certain that Wawrzynski knew of his failed assassins. There was probably a transmitter in the poison the girl had killed herself with, or perhaps even in her body somewhere. Wawrzynski would send another countermeasure to quell them. And it would be far more deadly.

Zane walked back to his friends. "We've got to move," he said. "Wawrzynski's coming."

Daisy smirked. "How do you know?"

"Intuition," he answered.

Mallory opened her mouth to say something, but Daisy cut her off. "This dude's intuition has never been wrong as long as we've known him. At some point you will have to learn to trust him."

Mallory laughed. "I was going to ask what to do with this guy," she said, jerking her thumb back toward the tied-up man. "If we're leaving, we can't pack him everywhere. He's just a dead weight."

Marcus chuckled. "Leave him," he said.

Jonas shook Trip, and the man jumped awake, his slicked-back hair falling out of formation. "Who's there!" he yelled, looking furtively around.

"Calm down, man," Jonas said, peered at the window, and yelled. "Move!" he screamed. "I was wrong, Trip, don't calm down." He frantically struggled to his feet, falling twice. Trip made similar failures. "Get between the aisles!" Jonas shrieked, waving his skinny arms.

Mallory obeyed him hesitantly. "What's going on?" she asked.

"New Vancouver plane!" Jonas said. "Right outside the window!" Zane didn't look to verify his statement. He just dove for cover. Trip followed, unceremoniously smashing his face into Jonas's rear end. Jonas, despite imminent fiery death, laughed. "You are so graceful, man."

Trip was understandably in shock, and he gasped for breath as everyone else held theirs. The plane could be heard hovering outside the window. "Why is this whole place made out of fucking glass?" Mallory demanded furiously. "Why not concrete or shitty drywall?"

Zane struggled to both hold his breath and catch his breath, focusing on the sound just meters away. His foot twitched in anticipation and his eyes scanned everyone and everything. Joseph grabbed his hand but didn't glance at him, just squeezed his fingers. Zane gratefully squeezed back.

Marcus was jerking furiously, a flash of bloodlust flying across his face. Zane knew he was experiencing a personality bend, but not one that rendered him blank to the outside world. It was one of violent and blind rage. Zane had only seen it once before, in the tunnel under New Vancouver, when he'd almost killed nine soldiers. Zane shivered. Mallory crawled in front of Marcus and began whispering rushed condolences. It was only her voice holding in the beast Marcus contained inside him.

The elevator dinged.

The doors opened.

Zane's eyes fell to the person inside as they saw the teenagers and Trip sitting between the aisles, obviously injured or in trouble.

The person walked across the open space, oblivious to the jet outside the window.

The glass exploded.

An explosion rocked the skyscraper.

Trip screamed.

Marlene's lifeless body tumbled out the opposite window and into the wide expanse of sky.