The Marus Manuscripts (29 page)

Wade kept his gaze on the city.

“Things will be different after tomorrow.”

Wade nodded, but he wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.

N
ow that he knew he wasn’t allowed to leave the castle or get a message to Arin, Wade felt like a prisoner. “It’s to keep you safe,” Thurston said in the dining room, echoing the same thing Tyran had said that first night he’d arrived at the castle. Come to think of it, Arin had said the same thing about keeping Wade in the compound: It was to protect him.

Why, then,
he wondered,
does being kept safe feel like being imprisoned?
He ventured to ask Thurston that question.

“Being safe and being imprisoned aren’t so different,” Thurston said reflectively as he picked up Wade’s dinner plates. “In the hands of someone who loves you, being kept inside is safety. When you’re ill, for example, your mother or father may keep you in your room so you’ll get better. In the hands of someone who hates you, being kept inside is imprisonment. You’re kept locked up so you’ll stay out of the way or won’t be able to speak or cause trouble, or to punish you.”

“So who loves me?” Wade asked. “Tyran or Arin?”

Thurston smiled at him warily. “That’s not for me to say,” he replied.

Wade remembered how Tyran had struck him on the face earlier in the day. Was that the act of a man who loved him? Wade thought he knew the answer. It was easy to think now that all of Tyran’s kind words and friendly gestures had been to get Wade to tell them about the atomic bomb. But what about Dr. Lyst? He had always acted like Wade’s friend. Or was that a trick, too?

Wade felt foolish and thought again about Arin. Stay in the
compound, Arin had told him, so no harm will come to him and he wouldn’t be used to cause harm. Wade had felt disappointed and trapped when Arin had said that. Now . . .

Now he had to wonder:
Is this what Arin meant? Have I been used to cause harm?

“Will that be all, sir?” Thurston asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Wade answered.

Thurston bowed slightly, and Wade noticed for the first time how pale he looked. “Are you feeling all right, Thurston?” he asked.

“Not very,” he replied, then took a tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen.

That night, Wade dreamed that he had climbed to the top of the castle wall to see the city—just as he’d climbed the wall of Arin’s compound. But the ladder fell and he was stuck on the wall. To his horror, he saw that the wall was rigged with explosives, and they were set to go off in two minutes. He didn’t know what to do. Then a voice called to him from below. It was Arin, with outstretched arms, shouting, “Jump! I’ll catch you! I’ll protect you!” Wade was poised on the ledge, unable to make his decision, when the bombs went off.

Wade awakened to a dark room. Once he realized it was only a dream, he lay back and tried to calm his fast-beating heart. He rolled over to look at the small clock on the bedstand. It was after nine o’clock.

Nine o’clock at night?
That didn’t make sense. He had gone to bed at 10:00. Tumbling out from under the covers, he went over to the curtains and pushed them aside. A glorious morning greeted him.

“Where’s Thurston?” he wondered out loud. Pulling on his robe, he went into the hallway. Everything seemed unnaturally quiet. He made his way to Dr. Lyst’s laboratory and was relieved to find the doctor there. “Good morning,” Wade said.

“Is it? I’m not so certain,” the doctor replied, pacing around the
room with great agitation. He looked pale and had dark circles under his eyes.

“I overslept,” Wade explained. “Thurston didn’t wake me up like he normally does. Do you know where he is?”

“What?”

“Where’s Thurston?”

Dr. Lyst waved his hand impatiently. “I haven’t the foggiest. Probably with the rest of the staff, finding vantage points from which to watch Tyran’s demonstration.”

“He’s going through with it? You finished the bomb?”

“Please, Wade, don’t bother me with questions now. I’m annoyed—
most
annoyed.”

“What’s the matter?”

“The matter?” The doctor looked at him as if he were stupid. “I was up all night at our laboratory in Hailsham, that’s what’s the matter. Half my scientists and technicians have come down with this blasted illness. And I had Tyran breathing down my neck the whole time.”

“Did you finish your prototype of the bomb?” Wade asked.

“I wouldn’t call it a prototype. A prototype means we’ll make more like it, and we won’t. No, sir, we won’t make another one like it. It was a mess.”

“You mean it won’t work?”

Dr. Lyst suddenly blew his nose, then answered, “It’ll work, all right. It’ll blow that house to smithereens. But I wouldn’t want to make another like it. We needed
time
, I kept telling Tyran. We have to test these things
carefully
. But he wouldn’t listen. Oh no, he wouldn’t. He’ll have his demonstration, but I won’t let him pressure me like that again. I want my bombs to be
right
. It’s a wonder his men weren’t blown up carrying the bomb to the house.”

“
His
men?”

“Why do you keep asking so many questions!” Dr. Lyst shouted. “He wouldn’t let me or my technicians set the bomb up. He had his
soldiers
do it—as if they know anything about my bombs. ‘You’ll be spotted,’ he said. ‘My soldiers will creep in quietly, set the bomb, and creep away. No one will know they were there. But you and your technicians would blunder in and give the whole thing away.’ Can you imagine? He said we would
blunder
in!
Blunder!
Well, if it all goes wrong, he’ll have no one to blame but himself.”

Wade didn’t know what to say.

Dr. Lyst looked at Wade as puzzlement moved across his face like a shadow. “Why are you still in your bathrobe?”

“Thurston didn’t wake me up,” Wade explained again.

“For heaven’s sake, get dressed, Wade! This is a big day!”

Wade rushed back to his room and hastily washed himself, watered down his hair so it wouldn’t stick up at odd angles, dressed, then returned to the lab.

Dr. Lyst was out on the castle wall with a telescope. He handed Wade a large pair of powerful binoculars. “We’ll see everything from here,” he said, then sighed. “I hope you’re pleased with your creation.”

“
My
creation?”

Dr. Lyst eyed him impatiently. “Must you always speak in question marks? Yes, it’s your creation as much as it’s mine.”

Tyran made his demands clear in the elders’ meeting. Liven and Dedmon, along with Acad, who was obviously ill, argued with him.

“You think we’re going to hand the reins of power over to you simply because you
tell us
we should?” Dedmon asked. He sniffled, then blew his nose loudly.

Liven stood up to face Tyran. “We’ve been more than patient
with you, Tyran,” he said. “Leave now or I’ll have my guards throw you out.”

Tyran smiled and said, “Your guards are currently being subdued by
my
guards.”

“What?” Liven said. He marched over to the chamber door, threw it open, and found himself face-to-face with three of Tyran’s men. They scowled at him and looked all the more menacing because of their sharp black uniforms and high jackboots. Liven turned to Tyran. “You can’t do this!” he insisted. “It’s treason!”

“It is only a temporary measure, to make sure we are not interrupted until my demonstration is finished,” Tyran replied as if nothing were wrong.

“What demonstration?” Acad asked weakly from his chair.

Tyran looked at his watch. “The demonstration that will take place in about five minutes. But you gentlemen will have to come up to the roof with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Acad said.

“Neither am I,” Dedmon added.

“Shall I call my guards to help persuade you?” Tyran threatened.

The three elders looked to one another.

“We’ll go,” Liven said. “But this had better be the most remarkable thing we’ve ever seen.”

“It will be,” Tyran said. “It will be.”

Tyran and the elders reached the roof in four minutes. Acad looked as if he might expire right then and there from the journey.

“Now what?” Liven asked.

“Look off to the east.”

“What about it?”

“More specifically, look in the direction of the Cinemon
suburbs—that wondrously large and exclusive selection of houses there,” Tyran said, pointing.

“You know that’s where I live,” Liven said with a frown.

“By no small coincidence, it
is
where you live!” Tyran said dramatically. “That single large house over on the Cinemon Ridge—off by itself—will be the site of our demonstration. Look through the telescopes I have provided, please.” He gestured to the telescopes. “Go on. Everyone have a look.”

“I see my house,” Liven said, flatly unimpressed.

“In five seconds you will not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Watch.” Tyran counted down slowly. “Five . . . four . . . three . . .”

“Two . . . one,” Dr. Lyst counted down. When he reached
one
, he tensed in anticipation of the explosion. It didn’t come. “Something’s wrong,” he said a few seconds later. “Something’s gone wrong!”

“This is ridiculous!” Liven said and pushed the telescope away.

Tyran was red-faced. “Wait! It will come,” he assured them.

“I don’t know what you’re up to,” Liven said with a scowl, “but your time is up.”

“No!” Tyran said.

“Let’s go back to our meeting, gentlemen,” Liven suggested to Dedmon and Acad.

Tyran held up his hands to stop them. “No! It will happen.”

Liven pointed a finger at Tyran. “And you’d better be glad that whatever you were doing failed. Because if you do anything to hurt my family or my house or
anything that is mine
, you won’t live to regret it.”

Tyran turned scarlet and suddenly grabbed Liven. “You will stay here and watch until I tell you it is time to go!” he demanded. “Now watch!”