A hand gently jostles my shoulder.
"Enna?" Matthew whispers.
"Mmm?" I moan, still too asleep to form a coherent word or thought. Attempting to sit up, I run my fingers through my tangled hair, brushing it to the side of my head. The room is too full of sunlight for me to fully open my eyes.
"It's time to see Gale."
"Gale?" And then I remember. My eyes pull apart and the sleep rushes out of my bones and muscles. Matthew crouches beside me, hair combed into acceptance, dressed in clean clothes. "Is my mother awake?"
"No. I thought we could go it alone." I nod, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Part of me wants to change my dirty clothes, but our next task seems too important to postpone a moment longer.
"When do we go?"
"Now." I nod again, letting him take my hand. We begin to walk towards the front door when I hear a small sound behind us. I twirl around instinctively, only to find Ariel partly hidden behind a section of wall.
"Where are you going?" She whispers. Matthew glances at me swiftly before replying.
"We were going to get some breakfast. It might be a while, though."
"Okay." The little girl bobs her head eagerly in understanding. Once we close the door behind us, I sigh.
"Good job with that," I mutter. Matthew shrugs and smiles crookedly.
"Lying to young children is my specialty." Once we descend the elevator, it doesn't take long to walk up to the counter. Gale isn't there, but the door to the meeting room is slightly ajar.
"Gale?" I call quietly. No reply.
"Gale?" I call again, louder.
"Is it you two?" Her voice replies. "Only you two?"
"Yes."
"Come in. Quickly." Matthew leads me into the room and I close the door behind us. It looks the same as it did last night, except a box of glazed doughnuts rests in the middle of the table. Gale sits in a chair against the corner of the room.
"I'm glad you've decided me trustworthy," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "Have a doughnut."
"We're still wary enough," Matthew assures her, ignoring the demand. She holds up her hands.
"Understood. Only time will prove my validation." We stare at each other silently for a moment, then Gale straightens in her chair and clears her throat.
"We have plenty to discuss, which is why I wanted you here just after the Workers left. I'm not too keen on our conversation being overheard." Matthew and I take the seats at the end of the table.
"What about Paul?" I ask.
"I've sent him some things to do. He should be preoccupied til sundown."
"What does he do here? Other than own the place?" Gale smirks.
"He's supposed to tend to paperwork downstairs. Answer phone calls, register the guests... That sort of thing. I've been taking over for him quite a lot lately." After a beat, she shakes her head. "But enough of that. We have more pressing matters to discuss."
"What is this place?" Matthew asks.
"What are the workers doing?" I question. Gale holds up her hands again.
"First things first. I have to explain things chronologically or else they won't make sense." I lean forward in my seat, tense. I'm finally about to learn the meaning of our arrival here: hopefully the meaning of what's going on everywhere. Maybe we can find the Depot detainees! Maybe--!
"How did you find the hotel?" Gale leans down and lowers her voice secretively. I recount the dream I had, and she absentmindedly flicks a loose strand of brown hair from her forehead.
"That's certainly unusual..." She mutters. I feel myself break out in a cold sweat.
"What do you mean by that?" Matthew orders. Gale looks up in surprise as if disturbed from deep thought. She smirks.
"You're a protective one, huh?"
"That tends to happen to a guy when the people he cares about are repeatedly threatened," he replies flatly. I urge myself not to blush. Gale ignores him.
"Once upon a time, I was born in New York City," she begins. "My mother was an anti-government nut job. Every day I saw her she'd drop weird hints and say vague things that made no sense to me. Eventually, my father--a mediocre, blue-collar suck-up--had enough of her antics and left us. Of course I was so young at the time I had no idea what really happened. My mother simply told me that daddy had to go away for a while." Her voice wavers and she pauses for a moment, continuing her story promptly. My stomach flips as I realize that Matthew was told the same thing in explanation of his own mother's disappearance.
"I went through school normally like everyone else. Behind the scenes, my mother never ceased to research new conspiracies and cover-ups. She became obsessed with finding enough evidence to accuse Them." She scoffs. "In my vulnerability, I believed her. She was the only parental figure I could count on: what else was I supposed to think?"
"You act like that's a bad thing," I mutter.
"Pardon?"
"Wasn't it good that you discovered the truth? Even though it sounded crazy?" Gale purses her lips, thinking.
"In the long run, I suppose retaining the ability to think individually was a benefit. Though if I'd allowed myself to be plugged in, I wouldn't be in the mess I'm in today. Let me explain." She takes a bite of a half-eaten doughnut she had been holding and leans back in the chair. Her braided hair trails down over her shoulder, disheveled.
"One day, she told me we were leaving. I never asked where or why, I simply followed. And, as you have probably guessed, she led me to the Depot. As a young girl of seventeen, I was welcomed into the Training Facility with open arms. My mother found her job as a school teacher. I never saw her much after that, but I suppose that she ended her life happily. During spy training, my instructor--Carson-- took specific interest in me. He pushed me onward to my breaking point and then some. I started to think that I simply wasn't going to be able to endure my training, but, somehow, I did."
I think about how I felt during my own training. Weak. Inexperienced. Inadequate. But I had friends to help me along the way: Leah, Matthew, my mother, Josh...
"I soared to the top of my class," Gale says, her eyes shining with suppressed pride. "Life was actually working out for me. I became the youngest Trainee ever to embark on a pro mission: basically, a life-or-death mission. There was a small office on 41st street, strongly suspected of belonging to a government elite. I was included in a squad of three. We managed to infiltrate the building but, to our dismay, the office was protected by an alarm system. We barely managed to return to the Depot, and only with a few files and papers." She smiles wryly. "Those papers led me here."
Matthew and I sit up straighter, eager to hear what they contained. Gale twists in her chair and opens one of the file cabinet drawers behind her. She withdraws an old stack of papers and holds them snugly on her lap.
"I've kept them ever since, read them religiously. When I returned to the Depot with them I obsessed over discovering their meaning. I made video journals and uploaded them to the Security Quarter's audio recordings." She nods towards me. "Those are probably what you stumbled across."
"What did you discover?" I ask, my voice shaking in anticipation. I remember my own father's recording, how terrified he sounded at the prospect of facing whatever threat he'd uncovered. Gale leans forward even more and lowers her voice to just below a whisper. Matthew and I have to quiet our breaths to hear her.
"It talked of the 'Elite' government group that controlled the city. It outlined their basic plans. I had a hunch--and I still do--that these plans were either updated or expanded. Anyways, the immediate meaning of the plans were to create a submissive, lower class. It talked about how RScreens and suggestive programming were to be used to eradicate individual-mindedness. Obviously this had happened long ago. But there was something else the files said, something much bigger than the RScreen ruse." She gulps.
"The files introduced another group that was vaguely referenced as the 'Hidden Allies'. Apparently, they are widely dispersed across the country, living and working in underground bunker-type settlements. This group strikes fear into the elites, yet our government is still foolish enough to believe that they are the most worthy ruling class." I glance at Matthew. He glares at his knees and bites his lip. I wonder if the imposing man we heard at the Pillar meeting was part of the Hidden Allies: he sure silenced John Elliot. "This group has been in cahoots with the government for years. They are the real threat, the people voicing orders behind the scenes. They are the real elite."
"So, what does this mean? What did you do about it?" Matthew whispers. Chills creep up my arms and I shiver.
"Good question. From what I gathered in the papers, one of the larger 'bases' was placed strategically in the barren ruins of Region Six. I knew that if I never discovered the truth and understood why these groups existed, I would be jeopardizing the safety of the Depot and its inhabitants. So one night, I ran away." My mouth falls open. Gale grimaces. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done, leaving behind my new life. Leaving behind the people I cared about... Believe me: it was no picnic getting here."
"You just left?" I ask incredulously. "Not knowing where to go?"
"I had a pretty good idea," she replies defensively. "But you mark my words: it was a bumpy road. I've hid in ditches, climbed trees, ran miles to escape helicopter search lights, eaten bugs... You name it."
"But isn't the west dangerous?" I blurt out. Gale stares at me for a while then shakes her head in disbelief.
"That's one of the lies fed to people so they don't develop the guts to wonder what's really happening. Like me." Matthew and I stare at each other, surprised. What could the government possibly be hiding? Why has the population been shifted to the east coast? Who are these 'Hidden Allies'?
"So what really is going on?" I ask in a hushed tone. Gale shrugs.
"That's what I've been trying to figure out for the last five years. I came upon this place, knowing that it was close to one of the bases. Desperate, I asked for a job here and they gave me one. Thank goodness I did: this is the place to be if you're a spy."
"Why do you say that?" Matthew shifts in his seat. Gale fixes each of us with an intense stare.
"This is the home away from home for most base Workers. That's why you saw all of those guards here last night. Every morning at 7:30 they leave for work, every night at 9:30 they return. This isn't any regular hotel."
"Have you ever asked any of them about their jobs?" I question. Gale laughs harshly, hard and bouncing.
"Have I? I've asked in every subtle way possible! But they never relent. They must be under strict orders."
"Well, what have you done the past five years? You had to have found something out!" Gale tilts her head thoughtfully.
"That's a good question... What have I discovered? The answer is complicated."
"Let's hear it."
"I haven't discovered anything as much as plotted something. You see, these people are dangerous. Very dangerous. To blatantly disturb them is to hand yourself a death sentence, which is why I have worked to slowly convince them of my legitimacy. I'm sure that, by now, I've persuaded them that I am familiar with their cause. When they get to the point where they trust me as a fellow Worker, I'm hoping that I will be able to join them one day in the bases. The arrival of you two and your mother has been extremely opportune. Your presence will help to consolidate my claim that I was sent from New York by John Elliot to oversee the progress of the base."
"Hold on a minute," Matthew says, raising his voice. I can tell that the mention of his father must have sparked some anger in him. "You want us to waltz into this base and expect royal treatment? If these people are as dangerous as you say they are, then they won't show us mercy just because we mentioned my father's name." Gale opens her mouth to retort then pauses, her eyes slowly widening.
"You... You're Elliot's boy?" Matthew nods tersely, his jaw clenched. I grab his hand under the table to try to calm him. "Then that woman you were with... She's not your mother?"
"She's my mother," I speak up. Gale's eyes flick to our grasped hands and understanding dawns on her face.
"I see."
"I know your cause is noble, but why even try to infiltrate the bases?" I ask, trying to set the conversation back on track.
"There are a lot of good people in the Depot counting on me. If we don't uncover the truth, lies will run rampant in the clothing of reality. We cannot let them destroy our world any farther. We must protect what is right." Matthew glances at me uneasily, and I know he's thinking the same thing as me.
"Gale," I start uncomfortably. "Do you even know what happened at the Depot?"
"What happened?" She says blankly. "What do you mean?" I relay the entire story of the conference at the Pillar, the overthrow of the Depot, the plugging in of most of its inhabitants, the bombing of the city, the new chips meant to burn those who try to escape. By the end of my story her face turns plaster pale and her hands begin to shake.
"Is Kevin okay?"
"Kevin?"
"Kevin Price." His name strikes my gut like a blow from a hammer.
"He was my father. He's dead." Gale looks utterly shocked, and a dormant pain awakens in my chest. "Did you know him?"
The woman sitting in front of me looks entirely different than from a couple moments earlier: weak, defeated, heartbroken. She nods, biting her lip.
"Anyways," I clear my throat, attempting once again to change the subject. "A group of detainees has been captured and brought here. That's why we came: to try to rescue them." Gale swiftly pulls herself together.
"Then we both have similar aims: to infiltrate the base."
"Do you know how close it is?" Matthew urges. "What does the entrance look like?" Gale shrugs.
"The Workers drive golf carts to the entrance, so it must not be too far. I have no idea what it looks like, but take a look at this..." From the pile of papers she clutches, she removes a thin sheet with a map on it. Matthew and I lean forward to see it. It is a map of the ten Regions. Rectangles of multiple sizes cover the land. The largest one is located right where we are.
"This is how big the bases are. They're practically underground cities." I can only stare in incredulity at the size of the base. It connects to other ones nearby.
"How deep are they?" Matthew whispers, his voice trembling. Gale shrugs again.
"I'm guessing a couple miles, at least."
My head spins in dizzying circles: below our feet, at this moment, is a hidden society focused on destroying humanity. How has no one ever discovered this before? Gale stands and strides over to the door, peering through its small window.
"Paul is looking for me. I better let you two go."
"But we have more questions--"
"I'm sorry. I'll try to contact you sometime later. Okay?" I interpret her stern tone as a quiet warning, and I lead Matthew into the lobby. Paul looks up at us in mild surprise and we pass him, walking slowly and nonchalantly towards the elevator.
* * *
Eating cold slices of cheese pizza, Matthew and I take turns relaying the recent conversation to our mother. She stares at us in terrified wonder. When we finish, her face looks absolutely pale.
"And--and you're sure this is going on? This isn't just some theory?"
"Gale seemed really serious," I reply, pushing my empty plate away from me. "Besides, everything she said matched up with what happened to us at the Pillar."
"You lied to me," Ariel sniffles, pouting at Matthew. "You didn't get any breakfast." My mom glares at him then turns to the little girl.
"It was for the best, honey. What they were doing was too dangerous for you."
"More dangerous than running away from bad guys with tanks?"
No one replies: sometimes you can't argue with the logic of a ten-year-old. My mother changes the subject smoothly.
"Well, listen. Ariel and I feel a bit stiff-legged. We're going to go for a quick walk around the place." I regard her uneasily.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course!" She puts her hands on her hips. "The Workers leave every morning around 7:30, right?" With that, she grabs Ariel's hand and they step into the hallway together. "We might stop to get some breakfast as well." The door closes with a snapping noise.
Sighing, I grab the empty plates on the table and set them in the 'Room Service' basket. Matthew settles into the couch, reclining and crossing his long legs on top of the coffee table. I join him, realizing how stiff my joints had become. After several weeks of steady exercise, the Depot's training program had slimmed me down and kept me loose. Not any more, I think crossly.
"I'm so confused," Matthew mutters drowsily, dragging a hand down his face. I nod absentmindedly. "I mean, what could be going on down in that base that can't be done up here?" I shrug. A vision replaces the white-walled room in front of me: a vision of Josh, wounded and defeated in the middle of the Warehouse. I remember the way he looked when his father admitted his treachery. And now, I think, he's trapped underground being experimented on by disgustingly apathetic rich people.
Before I know it, tears trail over my cheeks. My nose becomes stuffy and I sniff, trying to pull myself together. It's my fault. It's my fault we're here. It's my fault that my grandmother and brother are plugged in. It's my fault that--
"Stop that," Matthew scolds quietly. He brushes my tears away with his finger and pulls his eyebrows together. "We have to be strong, Enna. For your mother. For Ariel. For us."
I stare into his rich brown eyes, unable to look away. They plead with me to see reason: they plead with me to keep calm and find a way out of this mess that I've started.
"Okay," I whisper, my voice thin. The corner of his lip tugs upward in a sad kind of smile.
"Remember when I showed you that swimming pool at the Depot? And when we climbed the tree in the Atrium?" He slips a warm hand behind my neck. I nod, a smile creeping onto my face.
"Yeah."
"Someday things will be like that again," he whispers. I shake my head a little.
"I don't think so, Matthew." Suddenly, the reality of what we are about to do strikes the back of my head like a mallet and I cringe. "I don't think things can ever be like that again."
After a pause, he sighs and wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes. At the moment, it's easy to forget our impending doom.
Well, at least mine.