Inescapable (Talented Saga #7) (8 page)

I rushed to put my body between the little
girl and the swarm of UNITED agents. Quicker and more lithe than my
counterparts, I reached her first. Kneeling down in front of her, I
kept a reassuring smile firmly in place.

“
Don’t mind them. They’re a
bunch of baboons,” I told her.

My mind was still linked with Penny’s, and
suddenly her emotions were pouring into me. Anxiety, confusion,
fear.

The little girl beamed, though the gesture
was somehow anything but adorable. She looked crazed. Those golden
eyes flickered, the blue-rimmed lids and rhinestone facial
adornments appearing for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it instant.

“
Are you Talented?” I asked
her.

Her maniacal smile grew impossibly wider,
the corners of her mouth now stretching inhumanly across her small
face. The girl shook her head slowly.

“
Erik, no!”
Penny screeched inside my head, her panic
flooding through my mind.

In an icy voice that sounded much too old
for the small child I’d seen, the girl whispered her reply:
“Privileged.”

Pain exploded inside my skull. And then, the
world went black.

The Privileged

Besançon, France

Four Days Before the Vote

Two senior cadets, one male and one female,
entered the testing room. They both wore navy pants and jackets
with white piping that reminded Cressa of the dress uniforms worn
by soldiers back home. Cressa recognized the pair from pictures she
was shown during her introductory lesson on the Institute’s history
and current hierarchical structure; the girl was Leslie Abbot, and
the boy was Gregor Ivan. As the top 8Ps, Leslie and Gregor were
being groomed as future leaders of the next generation of
Privileged.

“
Congratulations, Cressa
Karmine.” Leslie spoke in perfect English that was laced with a
slight accent, hinting to her Scandinavian roots. “By successfully
using telekinesis, you have passed Phase One of the program. Your
work in this area is not complete, however. During Phase Two, you
will continue to hone your telekinetic abilities. Additionally, you
will receive a new gift—the power of light manipulation. Madame
Brink, the Phase Two instructor, will teach you how to use this
ability and ensure adequate proficiency to pass your exam and
progress to Phase Three. Do you understand?”

Still shaking from exertion, Cressa
attempted a smile. Leslie did not return the gesture.

“
Yes, ma’am, I
understand,” Cressa stuttered, recalling the lecture on addressing
all higher-ranked individuals, even cadets, as either “sir” or
“ma’am.”

“
Phase Two begins now,”
Gregor declared, his first words since entering the room. The older
boy’s voice was flat and emotionless, as though all the humanity
had been bled out of him. “You will come with us.”

With that, the duo turned in unison and
exited. On unsteady legs, Cressa hurried to catch up.

Outside the testing room, the hallway was
barren and sterile, just as it had been when Cressa entered hours
before. Neither Leslie nor Gregor spoke as they navigated the maze
of corridors, the soft clicking of their shoes on the hard linoleum
the only sound besides Cressa’s labored breathing.

A million questions for the senior cadets
were on the tip of Cressa’s tongue, but she swallowed her
curiosity. The instructor for Phase One, Madame Gillis, had been
very clear about the fact that unsolicited inquires were not
tolerated. At the Institute, information was earned, and parsed out
on a need-to-know basis. As a cadet advanced through each of the
eight Phases of the program, he or she learned a little more about
the inner-workings of the Institute and the Dame’s vision for the
Privileged.

Phase One cadets, or 1Ps, were told just
enough to know that the Institute prided itself on secrecy and
exclusivity. Rules and regulations were also stressed, with blind
obedience and unwavering loyalty topping the very long list. Before
she was given the telekinetic ability that marked her status as a
1P, Cressa had been required to memorize the extensive list of
mandates.

This was not a control issue—at least, not
entirely—but a safety precaution. The admissions process was
extremely selective and only the very best candidates were awarded
a spot. Nonetheless, many cadets never made it past Phase One, and
very few completed the entire program. The Dame worried the
failures may divulge the Institute’s secrets to those who opposed
her vision. By keeping the cadets in the dark, the Dame was able to
minimize that risk.

Even after being accepted, all Cressa’s
parents had been able to tell her was that once she became
Privileged, she would be special beyond compare. After completing
the program, Cressa would be a leader in the new world order, and
her family would be rewarded with the highest status in this
utopian society. Though details were scarce, her mom and dad had
eagerly accepted when the Institute contacted them to say they
wanted Cressa, and her journey into the unknown had quickly
begun.

Ahead of her, Leslie and Gregor stopped at
the end of the hallway, where elevator doors sat open. Leslie
tapped her foot impatiently as Cressa hurried to catch up to them.
Despite her aching muscles, Cressa broke into a jog.

“
Sorry,” she panted
apologetically.

Leslie stared down her straight nose at
Cressa, her silver eyes emotionless. With a wave of her hand, the
8P girl motioned Cressa through the open doors. Tentatively, Cressa
stepped onto the elevator, Leslie and Gregor directly behind
her.

There were no buttons inside the car, just a
small screen for biometric scanning. Leslie did the honors, placing
her hand flat against the smooth surface. There was a flash of blue
light as the scanner inside the compartment read Leslie’s
fingerprints, and then the elevator doors slid shut
soundlessly.

“
Cadet Leslie Abbot, 8P,”
a mechanical voice announced.

“
Medical bay,” Leslie
Abbot replied, enunciating each syllable clearly.

Cressa’s stomach, still dangerously queasy,
dropped to her feet even before the car began moving. She’d assumed
Leslie and Gregor were taking her back to her dorm room to collect
her limited belongings for relocation to the 2P floor. Apparently,
that wasn’t the case.

Gregor’s terse words
floated through Cressa’s mind:
Phase Two
begins now.
Did that mean that Cressa was
about to receive her next ability?

It must,
Cressa decided. That was the only reason to take
her to med bay at such a late hour. Routine blood tests and body
scans could have waited until morning, particularly since the
Institute preached the importance of proper sleep. Extensive
research had shown that an individual’s abilities were strongest
after exactly eight hours and fifteen minutes of rest, so the
cadets were required to get just that—no more, no less.

The realization that she was minutes away
from gaining another ability came with mixed emotions.

On the one hand, Cressa was positively giddy
at the thought of manipulating light—the Phase Two ability. Once
injected with the talent signature for it, she would be able to
move the molecules in her body so quickly that she’d become
invisible to the naked eye. That was, in a word, awesome.

But in order to receive her next ability,
Cressa had to go through the transference procedure. Having
experienced it once already, Cressa knew what was in store for her;
it wasn’t pleasant.

“
You have arrived at the
medical bay,” the elevator’s mechanical voice proclaimed as the
doors slid open, interrupting Cressa’s wandering thoughts. She felt
another lurch in her gut, and sweat began beading along her
hairline.

“
This way.” Leslie exited
the elevator and waved Cressa forward. “Hurry now, Dr. Masterson
does not like to be kept waiting.”

Cressa’s heart actually skipped a beat at
the mention of the formidable doctor.

Definitely not a
checkup,
she thought despondently. Dr.
Masterson was head of the Institute’s medical division, and
therefore too important to perform routine evaluations.

Ahead of her, Leslie and Gregor walked in
perfect unison, their steps synced as though they’d practiced
marching side-by-side. Cressa lagged behind, her feet feeling
leaden.

“
I have Cressa Karmine for
Dr. Masterson,” Leslie told the redhead behind the frosted glass
desk of the med bay’s intake booth.

The young tech tapped the screen in front of
her. “Karmine is here for her Phase Two injection, is that
correct?”

Leslie nodded in confirmation.

“
Proceed to cubicle five.
The doctor will meet you there,” the redhead replied.

She pressed a green button
on the right side of her desk, and a set of double doors beneath
the
Medical Bay
sign opened. Leslie and Gregor positioned themselves on
either side of Cressa, herding her through the entrance. Though
neither 8P touched her, Cressa got the distinct impression that
they were there to ensure she didn’t make a break for
it.

Guess I’m not the first
cadet to have nightmares about the transference,
Cressa thought, feeling a little
better.

The med tech gave her a superficial smile
that lacked genuine warmth as Cressa passed by her desk.
“Congratulations, Cadet Karmine,” she said.

“
Thank you, ma’am,” Cressa
replied tightly.

The doors to med bay snapped shut as soon as
Cressa, Leslie, and Gregor had crossed the threshold. Cressa
flinched as the sound echoed down the silent corridor.

“
There is no need to be
nervous,” Gregor intoned, his assurances sounding hollow and
rehearsed. “This procedure will be similar to the previous one,
only much shorter, since you already have a foundation for
abilities. Now that your body has proved a willing host for one, it
is unlikely that it will reject a second one.”

This did not soothe Cressa in the least.
“Unlikely” was fairly low on the certainty spectrum in Cressa’s
opinion. If anything, Gregor’s reminder that there were no
guarantees when it came to transference made her even more
anxious.

The last time she’d walked
down that very same corridor, Cressa had been more excited than
nervous. This time, fear dwarfed the small amount of enthusiasm she
felt about taking the next step towards becoming Privileged.
Only minutes ago, Cressa had been desperate to
learn what the next Phase of the program had in store for her. Now,
she found herself longing for the comforts of home, a small part of
her wishing that she’d never been accepted to the
Institute.

The transference will not
last forever,
she chided herself.
Being Privileged will.

The main corridor of med bay was lined with
glass cubicles. Leslie and Gregor led Cressa past the first few,
which were all frosted over to indicate that they were occupied.
Cressa wondered who was inside. Other 1Ps preparing to move on to
Phase Two? 7Ps receiving their final injections?

The trio stopped outside the entrance to
cubicle five. The sliding glass door was open, providing Cressa a
clear view of the exam room. The sight of the incubation chamber
caused her to suck in a breath, memories of pain flooding her mind.
Panic made her ribs feel as though they were compressing her
lungs.

Not again. I can’t survive
it again,
Cressa thought. Her eyes darted
frantically up and down the corridor, desperately seeking escape
options.

“
Do you wish to advance to
Phase Two, Cressa Karmine?” Leslie asked in a flat tone. She must
have considered it a rhetorical question, because the 8P didn’t
wait for Cressa to respond. “If you do, I suggest you walk inside
right now. Failure to progress carries very serious consequences. I
assure you, the repercussions for quitting are decidedly more
unpleasant than the transference procedure.”

Cressa swallowed thickly, finding her mouth
drier than the desert at midday. She’d heard the whispers of senior
cadets about classmates who’d failed their exams too many times and
been dismissed from the program as a result. They were referred to
as the disgraced. Among the myriad of rumored consequences to being
disgraced, some even said they became test subjects for cadets in
the highest Phases of the program. Like most rumors, Cressa
believed the usage of those who failed to advance as practice
dummies was wild speculation. For all she knew, the Dame herself
might have started it, to dissuade cadets from quitting. Still,
Cressa had no desire to find out what would happen if she refused
to continue with the program.