I’d been planning to corner Ella when she got back anyway. I need her to teach me how to mimic her telepathy—being able to communicate with the others will be integral to everything we’ve got planned. Yet, for some reason, I get a real sense of foreboding when she asks to speak with me.
“Sure, Ella. Right now?”
“In a little while. I need to prepare something,” she says, then wanders off to the elevator. Mechanics working on the vehicles in the hangar stop what they’re doing to stare at the trail of Loric energy that sparks out from her eyes, how it floats through the air like a comet’s tail and then dissipates to nothing.
“What was that about?” Nine asks quietly.
I shoot Six a questioning look.
“Your guess is as good as mine, John,” she says. “I think the girl’s got a lot on her mind.”
I should’ve asked Ella exactly where she wanted us to meet. I spend more time than I should wandering the subterranean halls of Patience Creek looking for her. At one point, I pass by the laboratory where Sam and Malcolm are hard at work on reverse engineering the Mogadorian cloaking device. From the hallway, I can hear Sam repeatedly saying, “Broadcast at that frequency,” almost like it’s a mantra. Six mentioned that he’s developing a Legacy that lets him communicate with machines. So far, it doesn’t sound like the cloaking device is willing to listen.
As I walk by, Bernie Kosar trots out from the Goodes’ laboratory, where he’s been hanging out with the other Chimærae. I pause to reach down and scratch behind his ears.
Want to help me track down Ella? I ask him, using my animal telepathy.
BK wags his tail and begins leading me down the hallway, back the way I came. He seems excited to have something to do, his little beagle legs pumping, tail straight out behind him. We end up at the elevator, and, once inside, BK hops up on his back legs so he can push the button for the top floor with his snout.
What would I do without you, BK?
The elevator doors open, and right in front of me is a wooden wall. I push against it with two hands, and it easily slides forward, its hinges well-oiled. I step into a retro-looking bedroom, now on the top level of Patience Creek, the aboveground level, the part of the complex that looks exactly like an abandoned bed-and-breakfast because, for all intents and purposes, it really is one. The room I’m in smells musty, the double bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in for years and dust motes hang in the air. Through the window—a real window with actual sunlight, not like the simulated ones in the subterranean rooms—I can hear birds chirping away the late afternoon. I push the hinged bookcase back into place so the elevator is concealed.
With all the action and facilities underground, and considering the vehicle entrance is about two miles away via tunnel, no one spends much time up here. I know Lawson’s got a few guards posted on the grounds, just in case, but Patience Creek has survived this long because no one’s interested in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. Especially not invading aliens.
BK leads me onwards, out of the bedroom and down a wood-paneled hallway, leaving a trail of paw prints on the floorboards. I could find Ella myself now; she left her own trail in the accumulated dust, but I don’t mind having BK along.
We find Ella in what was once a lounge area adjacent to Patience Creek’s unmanned front desk. I glance to the space over the desk where there’s a mounted moose’s head. There’s a hidden camera in there. I remember that from scanning the security feeds last night. I wonder if anyone is watching me now. I imagine Lawson’s got eyes on me and the others near constantly. It’s what I would do if the roles were reversed. At least he hasn’t been pushy or tried to interfere with anything I’m doing.
The walls in the lounge are lined with bookcases filled with either yellowed volumes from the seventies or smooshed board game boxes. All the furniture is under tarps except for the central dining table, which Ella has uncovered. She’s taken a heavy-duty atlas down from one of the bookshelves and is in the process of marking it up with a blue pen when I enter.
“Almost finished,” she says, without looking up at me. She flips to a page dedicated to the western coast of Africa and begins scratching a thick blue dot onto the southern edge of the continent.
BK sits down next to me, his tail thumping the floor. I tilt my head, trying to get a look at Ella’s project.
“You know, we have computers downstairs,” I tell her, feeling a need to break the silence.
“I didn’t want to risk putting this information into the system before you had a chance to look at it,” Ella replies matter-of-factly. “And I had to get it down before it fades from my memory.” She flips to the front of the atlas, where a world map is already covered in her little blue dots, then pushes the volume across the table in my direction, her glowing eyes fixed on me. “Done.”