Chapter 23
Hatch stood again, composing himself. "Well done, Torstyn," he said. "A round of applause for Torstyn, who just saved all of our lives."
Everyone clapped, even Quentin.
"You will be handsomely rewarded when we arrive in Peru."
"Thank you, sir," Torstyn said.
Hatch pointed at the psychiatrist. "You."
Dr. Jung was pale with fear.
"Sedate the boy until anesthetic flows from his tear ducts." Hatch's eyes narrowed. "Do not let him wake again until we're on the ground. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. He won't. It won't happen again. I promise."
"I should hope not. If he wakes again, I'll have both of you thrown out of the airplane. Are we clear on this?"
The doctor blanched. "Yes, sir. Very clear."
"Close the screen," he said to the guard.
"Yes, sir," the guard said, pulling the screen around the pair.
"We'll deal with your insubordination after we land."
"Yes, sir."
Hatch looked back at the youths. "Where were we?"
The plane landed in Rio de Janeiro to refuel, then quickly took off again, finally touching down at a small airfield near the Elgen's Peruvian compound, in the town of Puerto Maldonado.
The asphalt runway was surrounded by walls of trees that spilled outward from the burgeoning forest. The jet taxied to a small hangar where a contingency of Elgen guards and a bus were waiting to transport the group to the compound.
The plane stopped and a stairway unfolded from its side. A guard climbed to the top of the stairs and knocked on the door.
Bryan was the first one out, followed by the rest of the youths.
"Whoa," Bryan said. "It's hot. Like a furnace hot."
"And humid," Tara added. "My hair is going to be frizzy."
Torstyn rolled his eyes. "This is nothing. Wait until summer."
A moment later the guard walked out, followed by Hatch. The six Peruvian guards at the bottom of the stairs saluted Hatch as he emerged from the plane and descended the stairway. Hatch stopped at the bottom and returned the Elgen salute.
"Captain Figueroa," he said.
"Yes, sir!"
He pointed to the guard from the plane, who was not standing at attention. "This man disobeyed a direct order. His inaction nearly cost us our lives. Put him under arrest."
"Yes, sir," the captain snapped. "Guards at attention."
The Peruvian soldiers pointed their guns at the lone guard, who, in spite of his many years with the Elgen, was still caught off guard. He looked on in horror.
The captain stepped forward with his gun drawn, his other hand out. "Guard 247, surrender your gun. Slowly and by the barrel."
"Yes, sir," he said, his voice trembling. He slowly removed his gun from its holster and, holding it by its barrel, handed it to the captain.
"Put your hands behind your back. Now!"
He quickly obeyed.
"Secure this man," the captain barked.
"Sir, yes, sir." One of the soldiers ran up behind the guard and handcuffed the man's hands behind his back, fastening the metal belt through a buckle in the back of the guard's uniform.
The captain turned to Hatch. "Prisoner is secured. What are your orders, sir?"
Hatch scowled at the handcuffed guard. "Captain Figueroa, detain this man for now in maximum security. For the benefit of the visiting guards we're going to make an example of him. We're going to put him in the chute."
The condemned guard's face turned pale. "No, please, sir. Not that. I beg you!" He fell to his knees, bowing his head to Hatch's feet. "Please, sir. Anything but that! Shoot me. Please, shoot me."
Hatch sneered. "Show some dignity, man." He kicked the guard away from him. "Captain, keep him alive until I give you further instructions."
"No!" the man screamed. He tried to get to his feet to run, but he was knocked down before he could stand.
The teens watched the exchange with amus.e.m.e.nt.
"What a wimp," Torstyn said.
"What's the chute?" Tara asked.
"It's where they feed the rats," Torstyn said.
"What rats?"
He looked at her with a snide grin. "They really don't tell you much, do they?"
Several guards carried Tanner's gurney from the plane, escorted by Dr. Jung.
"Let's go," Hatch said to the captain. "Captain Figueroa."
"Yes, sir."
"Also detain Tanner and the doctor in maximum security until further notice."
The doctor turned white. "But, Dr. Hatch-"
"Don't speak to me," he said. "Or I'll send you to the chute as well."
The doctor froze.
"To the bus, please," Hatch said to the teens.
Tara said to Torstyn, "They're going to feed him to rats?"
"Yeah. It's a cool thing to watch."
"You've seen this before?" Quentin asked.
"Of course. Hundreds of times. Feeding time is better than the movies. I've seen the rats strip the meat off a two-thousand-pound bull in less than a minute."
"Awesome," Bryan said.
"Yeah, this guy will be a snack for them."
As Hatch and the kids approached the bus, a man wearing a white jacket and Panama hat, holding a spider monkey, walked up to Torstyn. "Here is your mono, Senor Torstyn."
"Hey, Arana," Torstyn said, taking his pet. He put the monkey on his shoulder, and it climbed up onto his head.
"Cute,"
"Yeah, wait until she bites you," Torstyn said.
Tara quickly pulled her hand back, and Torstyn laughed. Suddenly the monkey began screeching, then jumped off Torstyn's head and ran off toward the jungle.
"Arana!" he shouted after it. When it had disappeared into the jungle he turned back to Tara. "What did you do?"
Tara just smiled. "Nothing. You think I can get in an animal's head?"
"Yes," he said.
Quentin grinned. "Bad news for you, Torstyn. You thought you were safe."
Torstyn glared at both of them. "That was my pet," he said, turning away from them.
Quentin laughed. "We're definitely going to have fun in the jungle."
The Elgen's Peruvian Starxource plant was situated near the southeastern city of Puerto Maldonado, a jungle town in the Amazon Basin. It was the largest of the Elgen's compounds and built on a twenty-five-thousand-acre ranch hemmed in by jungle on all sides. Hatch and his team had selected the city for three reasons: First, it was remote, many miles away from curious eyes. Second, there was plenty of water, as the Rio Madre de Dios, a tributary of the Amazon River, pa.s.sed through the town; and third, it had an abundance of labor. Puerto Maldonado had once been a thriving logging and gold-mining camp, but both the gold and lumber were long gone, leaving few employment opportunities for the natives and guaranteeing an abundant workforce.
The compound had three main structures. The largest building was the Starxource power plant, called el bol by the natives, or "the bowl." The bowl was a ma.s.sive, redbrick building with stainless steel casings that bulged out in the middle. Most said the bowl looked like a flying saucer had crashed into it. Just east of the building were three smaller buildings: the water house, the ranch house, and a food production plant.
West of the bowl was the Elgen Reeducation Center, or "Re-Ed," as it was known by the guards, a rectangular building without windows used to rehabilitate uncooperative employees.
Connected to the Re-Ed by a brick corridor was the a.s.sembly hall, a ma.s.sive building that could house more than two thousand people and served as both a cafeteria and an educational facility.
North of the a.s.sembly hall was residential housing, three long, rectangular buildings where the guards, scientists, and employees slept. Hatch, the electric children, and the Elite Guard-twelve men personally selected by Hatch to oversee the Elgen security force-had their own housing facilities on the west side of the Re-Ed.
The bus pa.s.sed through two checkpoints during the drive into the compound, and even though the bus entered the gates only ten minutes from the airfield, it took a little more than thirty-five minutes for them to reach their housing facilities.
The youths were each a.s.signed a guard and two personal a.s.sistants, all Peruvians who spoke English. While the a.s.sistants prepared their suites and oversaw the delivery of their luggage, the teens ate lunch in their private dining room. Afterward they gathered in the lobby of their new home, where Dr. Hatch was waiting for them.
"I know it's not Beverly Hills," Hatch said. "But I trust your suites are satisfactory."
All of them agreed that their Peruvian accommodations were as luxurious as the academy in Pasadena.
"Then it will be my pleasure to give you a tour of your new home. I think you will be rather impressed with what we've built in the jungle. I know I am." Hatch ushered them outside to a twelve-seat golf cart with a flas.h.i.+ng amber light on top. The driver was a guard dressed in the standard uniform, except for a bright red patch featuring a condor, symbolic of the Chasqui, a special Elgen military order in Peru.
The teens boarded the cart and Hatch climbed up front with the driver and took the microphone. "Everything you'll see on this tour is C9."
The difference between C9 and C10 was that C9 could be discussed with other Elgen a.s.sociates while in a secure Elgen facility. Unlawful disclosure, however, carried the same punishment as C10.
"Onward," Hatch said.
The cart made a sharp U-turn, then glided silently down the smooth, resin-coated cement floor past the Re-Ed and toward the Starxource plant. Two guards stood at attention as they approached, and the metal doors behind the guards opened.
The inside of the building looked similar to the lower laboratory of the Pasadena academy, only on a much larger scale. The building was more than a hundred yards from end to end, the length of a football field. The corridors were lit with bluish-white indirect lighting, giving the hallways a futuristic, eerie look. It took several minutes for the cart to reach their destination-the elevator to the bowl's observation deck.
As they approached the room Hatch said, "What you are about to see is the heart of the Starxource program-the very core of our power and our future." A grim smile crossed his face. "I guarantee you won't soon forget it."
The elevator opened to reveal a sealed door guarded by two Elgen guards dressed in black with red armbands. The guards stood stiffly at attention and saluted as Hatch stepped from the cart. One of the guards opened the door, and the kids filed in after Hatch.
Bryan was the first to comment on what they saw. "No way!" he shouted.
The teens had seen remarkable things in their lives, far more than normal teenagers, but nothing could have prepared them for the bowl. The observation deck was sixty feet long, and the inner wall, slightly convex, was made of gla.s.s, which allowed them a view of something few would ever see: nearly a million electrified rats.
The swarms of rats crawled over one another, creating an undulating, ma.s.sive orange-and-gray carpet, and in parts of the bowl they looked like molten lava.
"What you're looking at is almost a million rats, each of them capable of generating two hundred and fifty watts and two amps of electricity an hour; that's five hundred watts a second, nearly identical wattage to the electric eel. Combined, that's three hundred seventy-five million watts a second, more than enough to light downtown New York City.
"You can't see it because of the rodents, but beneath them, the floor is a delicate, silver-coated copper grid, the largest ever constructed. Its purpose is to conduct electricity to the capacitors below. We also use the grid to solve the problem of waste, as the rats' excrement drops below and is conveyed out to be processed into manure, more than twelve tons a day."
"That's a lot of c.r.a.p," Bryan said, punching Torstyn in the shoulder.
"Do that again and I'll melt your head," Torstyn said.
"What's that big arm thing in the middle?" Quentin asked.
Connected to the center of the bowl was a curved metallic blade about three feet high and a hundred and forty feet long. The arm slowly swept the bowl like the second hand of a clock.
"That's the sweep," Hatch said. "The rats only generate usable amounts of electricity when they're active, so the sweep makes a complete revolution of the bowl every ninety-six minutes, forcing the rats to continually move. If we need more power we simply increase the speed of the arm, generating more electricity. The sweep has another purpose as well. The angle of the blade forces anything on the grid to its outer rim-so it disposes of animal bones and dead rats, pus.h.i.+ng their carca.s.ses off the grid."
"With the p.o.o.p?" Bryan asked.
"No. The outer rim falls into special troughs that convey the dead rats into an electric grinder. There, the meat and bone are milled into powder, mixed with an iodine supplement and a glucose solution, then stamped and baked into biscuits, which our scientists call Rabisk-short for rat biscuits. We then feed them to the rats."
Tara grimaced. "You mean they're cannibals?"