It’s an aquarium.
An aquarium larger than I am. An aquarium the size of a wall. It’s not the first water tank I’ve seen in a laboratory here in Oceania, and I’m beginning to wonder why there are so many of them. I take another step back, still trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Dissatisfied, I step closer again. There’s a dim blue light in the tank, but it doesn’t do much to illuminate the large dimensions. I crane my neck to see the top of it, but I lose my balance, catching myself against the glass at the last second. This is a futile effort.
I need to find Ibrahim.
Just as I’m about to step back, I notice a flash of movement in the tank. The water trembles within, begins to thrash.
A hand slams hard against the glass.
I gasp.
Slowly, the hand retreats.
I stand there, frozen in fear and fascination, when someone clamps down on my arm.
This time, I almost scream.
“Where have you been?” Ibrahim says angrily.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I say quickly. “I got lost. The smoke was so thick that I—”
“What are you talking about? What smoke?”
The words die in my throat. I thought I saw smoke. Was there no smoke? Is this another test?
Ibrahim sighs. “Come with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
This time, I keep my eyes on Ibrahim at all times.
And this time, when we walk through the darkened laboratory into a blindingly bright, circular room, I know I’m in the right place. Because something is wrong.
Someone is dead.
KENJI
When we finally make it to the compound, I’m exhausted, thirsty, and really have to use the bathroom. Warner is none of those things, apparently, because Warner is made of uranium or plutonium or some shit, so I have to beg him to let me take a quick break. And by begging him I mean I grab him by the back of the shirt and force him to slow down—and then I basically collapse behind a wall. Warner shoves away from me, and the sound of his irritated exhalation is all I need to know that my “break” is half a second from over.
“We don’t take breaks,” he says sharply. “If you can’t keep up, stay here.”
“Bro, I’m not asking to stop. I’m not even asking for a real break. I just need a second to catch my breath. Two seconds. Maybe five seconds. That’s not crazy. And just because I have to catch my breath doesn’t mean I don’t love J. It means we just ran like a thousand miles. It means my lungs aren’t made of steel.”
“Two miles,” he says. “We ran two miles.”
“In the sun. Uphill. You’re in a fucking suit. Do you even sweat? How are you not tired?”
“If by now you don’t understand, I certainly can’t teach you.”
I haul myself to my feet. We start moving again.
“I’m not sure I even want to know what you’re talking about,” I say, lowering my voice as I reach for my gun. We’re rounding the corner to the entrance, where our big, fancy plan to break into the building involves waiting for someone to open the door, and catching that door before it closes.
No luck yet.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“What?” Warner sounds annoyed.
