Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 Read online

  “Does she have an iPod?”

  “I think so.”

  “You could get her an iPod gift card. We have them at the store.”

  “That’s a cool present.”

  “That way every time she listens to a song she bought with it she’ll think of you.”

  “Mom.”

  She laughed. “I’m just trying to help.”

  Ostin had another dentist appointment that morning, so after breakfast my mom dropped me off at school. I can’t believe the difference a weekend can make. Somehow I went from zero to hero. People I didn’t even know said hi to me in the hall, and the basketball team, who previously didn’t know I existed, had taken to calling me “Little Norris.” I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

  That afternoon I was standing in line for hot lunch when Ostin marched up to me. “Dude, we need to talk.”

  “Hold on, I’m getting my lunch.”

  “This is more important than food. This is vital.”

  Those were words I never thought I’d hear from Ostin’s mouth.

  “You’re serious.”

  “As a heart attack, dude. And we need Taylor.”

  I looked around. “I don’t know where she is.”

  “She’s over there,” he said, pointing across the crowded lunchroom. That’s when I first realized Ostin had Tay-dar. I don’t know why he was so much better at finding her than I was, but he definitely was. Taylor was sitting at a table with five other girls. “You need to get her. Now!”

  “You go get her,” I said.

  “She won’t come with me. She doesn’t even remember my name.”

  “Yes she does. She’s just teasing you.”

  “You’re the president of the Electroclan,” he said. “It’s your responsibility.”

  I wondered what good it was being president of something if you’re always being told what to do by the members. I relented. “All right.”

  “I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

  I left the lunch line and walked up to her table. Taylor was in the middle of telling a story, and one of the girls nudged her when she saw me approach. Taylor looked up at me. “Hi, Michael.”

  I felt awkward with all the girls looking at me. I did my best not to twitch. “Uh, can I talk to you?” I fumbled for an excuse. “About biology.”

  She looked at me quizzically. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Can I talk to you in private?”

  “Wooo,” one of the girls said.

  “Shut up, Katie,” Taylor said, standing. “I’ll be right back.” We stepped away from the table.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Ostin says he needs to talk to us. He says it’s vital.”

  “Vital?”

  “He skipped lunch to talk to us.”

  “That is vital. Where is he?”

  “He’s in the courtyard.”

  We walked together to the school’s outer courtyard. Ostin was sitting alone on a bench, a little hunched over as if hiding. He stood when he saw us. He was clutching a piece of paper.

  “Hi Ostin,” Taylor said. “What’s up?” Had he not been so grim I think he would have been overjoyed that she got his name right.

  “Everyone sit down,” he said gravely.

  We sat on both sides of him.

  “Remember our last meeting? We were wondering about what might have happened around those days you were born.”

  “The eleven days,” I said. “When all the babies died.”

  “Exactly. What I did was look through the newspaper for anything out of the ordinary that began the day or week before April sixteenth. Everything looked pretty usual until I found this.” He held up a sheet of paper. “It’s a newspaper article from the Los Angeles Times.”

  He read it out loud.

  Pasaaana—Scientists from Elgen Inc., an international medical equipment provider, announced today the discovery of a new method of body imaging, which they claimed will “render current MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imagery) technology obsolete.

  The new machine, called the MEI (Magnetic Electron Induction), was created at a cost of more than $2 billion and, according to its developers, “has the potential to deliver benefits of diagnosis and treatment once considered an impossibility.” Dr.

  C. James Hatch, Elgen Inc.’s CEO, said, “This new technology will have the same effect on current medical technology that the X-ray machine had at the turn of the 19th century.”

  Current MRI technology uses radio waves to generate images of organs and tissues. In closely guarded technology, the MEI creates electrically charged molecules that are 1,200 to 1,500 times more visible than current MRI readings. This method is the first of its kind to employ electrons to create an enhanced view of the body.

  “This new technology will benefit every known discipline of medicine and possibly many that have not yet been pioneered,”

  said Dr. John Smart, one of the machine’s inventors and profes-sor emeritus at Harvard Medical School. “This technology may very well pave the way to new disciplines in health studies.”

  The MEI technology has received FDA approval for limited human testing and is currently being installed in Pasadena General Hospital. Human testing is planned to begin April 16 of this year.

  Ostin set down his paper. “Now here’s the clincher. Twelve days later a small article ran in the Times saying that the MEI experiment had been temporarily suspended due to some minor technical malfunc-tion.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “What are the odds that all those babies started dying the day the machine was turned on and ended the exact same day they turned it off?”

  “Impossible odds,” Ostin said. “Crazy impossible. The machine must have something to do with it.”

  “You mean they put all those babies through the machine?”

  “No, they wouldn’t do that. I’m guessing that something went wrong and the machine’s waves traveled through the walls.”

  “And if the machine was somehow responsible for those deaths,”

  Taylor said, “the people who owned the machine wouldn’t want others to find out about what happened to all those babies or they could be sued for millions.”

  “Tens of millions,” I said.

  “Hundreds of millions,” Ostin said.

  “Wow,” Taylor said. “Think about it, they’ve been hiding this from the public for fifteen years. If they knew that we knew . . .”

  “That,” Ostin said, looking even more worried, “is why I needed to talk to you.” He turned to Taylor. “How did you look up those first hospital records?”

  “On the Internet.”

  “Where?”

  “On my computer,” Taylor said.

  “At home?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  He combed his fingers back through his hair. “I was afraid of that.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I asked.

  “Hopefully, nothing. But they might have set up spiders.”

  Taylor asked, “What’s that?”

  “Spiders comb the Web looking for references to certain topics or inquiries. They could have programmed their computer to alert them whenever someone looks up a certain topic.”

  “Such as birth records at Pasadena General during those eleven days,” I said.

  Ostin nodded. “Exactly,” he said breathlessly. “You need to clear off anything on your computer connected to that search, cookies and everything. If they track you down . . .”

  “What would they do?”

  “They’ve already killed forty people. With more than two billion dollars of research at stake, who knows?”

  Taylor suddenly blanched. “Oh no.”

  “What?”

  “Something happened Saturday while I was at your party. What was the name of that company again?”

  “Elgen Inc.”

  Taylor suddenly looked pale. “Meet me at my locker.” She sprinted off toward the building. She had already opened her locker by the time we caught up to he
r. She pulled out a glossy, trifold brochure and handed it to me. The piece looked like a recruitment brochure for some kind of school. The cover of the brochure had a picture of well-dressed, smiling students walking in front of a beautiful building.

  Taylor said in a hushed voice, “This guy came over Saturday night and met with my parents. He said he was from a very special school in Pasadena, California. He told my parents that nationally this school only selects seventeen students a year and that I had been recommended by an anonymous source for entry. They said it was the most prestigious boarding school in the country and those who attended were guaranteed a full-ride scholarship to the university of their choice: Harvard, Yale, anywhere.

  “My parents were way excited, but told him that they could never afford the tuition. The man said not to worry about it, that they were offering me a full scholarship, including books, room, and board. All I had to do was show up.”

  Ostin looked jealous. “But you’re only in ninth grade.”

  “That’s what my parents said, but the man claimed that starting their students young is one of the reasons their students are so suc-cessful and that any student enrolled in their school could pretty much name their college and salary. My parents told him they needed to think about it, because they didn’t want me to be away.”

  “What’s the name of the school?” I asked.

  “The Elgen Academy of Pasadena.”

  “Elgen?” I looked again at the brochure.

  Taylor looked afraid. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  “You’ve got to erase everything off your computer as soon as you can,” Ostin said.

  I shook my head. “If it’s them it’s already too late for that. You better tell your mom and dad.”

  “Tell them what? That their daughter has super powers and some big corporation is hunting her down?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” I said.

  She leaned back against her locker and slid down until she was sitting on the ground. Her eyes began to fill with tears. I sat down next to her. Without looking at me she said, “I’m scared.”

  “Listen,” I said. “My mother has been in tough spots before. She’ll know what to do. We’ll pick you up from cheerleading and we’ll figure it out tonight.”

  Taylor wiped her eyes. “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

  “Trust me, it will be okay.” I looked at the brochure again. “May I keep this?”

  She nodded. I folded it up and put it in my pants pocket.

  Just then a voice came over the PA system. “Michael Vey to the front office. Michael Vey.”

  Taylor looked at me with wide eyes.

  “What’s that about?” Ostin asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  A Change of Plans

  I walked to the front office about as enthusiastically as a man on his way to the electric chair—

  and with about as much hope. I was ticking like mad—blinking and gulping. As I stood in the waiting room, the school secretary, Mrs.

  Hancock, walked out of Mr. Dallstrom’s office. She greeted me with a smile. “Hello, Michael,” she said. “Mr. Dallstrom will be right with you.”

  I swallowed. I was afraid that was the reason they were calling me. I had no idea why Dallstrom wanted to see me—I hadn’t been shoved in a locker for days.

  A moment later he came to his door. He was smiling, which looked frighteningly out of place, like lipstick on a pig.

  “Michael, come in.”

  “Yes, sir.” I followed him inside his office. He sat back in his chair and smiled again.

  “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

  “How’s school going?”

  I looked at him, wondering if some alien being had taken over his body. I slowly sat down. “It’s fine.”

  “Great. I just wanted to tell you that your detention has been canceled. I’m sorry about that little misunderstanding. And Jack and his cohorts will be doing their time. I guarantee they won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could think to say. “Thank you.”

  He stood and walked around his desk to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Michael, we’re proud that you’re a member of our student body.”

  Now I was certain I was being punked. “You are?”

  “Absolutely we are.” Dallstrom leaned back against his desk. “Michael, I have some terrific news. Two of Meridian’s pupils have been awarded the prestigious C. J. Hatch Scholarship to the acclaimed Elgen Academy in Pasadena, California. And you are one of them.”

  He stuck out his hand. “Congratulations.”

  I gulped. How had they found both of us? I timidly offered my hand. When I could speak I asked, “Why me?”

  “Why not you?” Dallstrom said. “Elgen Academy selects their elite student body using a closely guarded process that involves scholarship, citizenship, and character. I am told that this is the first time in the academy’s illustrious history that two students have been invited to the academy from the same city—let alone the same school. We are very proud indeed.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say hurray!” he said. “This is the chance of a lifetime! The academy’s board will be contacting your parents directly and extending the offer. I’m certain that they’ll be as proud and excited as we are.”

  “It’s just my mom,” I said. I was suddenly very afraid for her.

  “And, Michael, the best part is that your good fortune is shared by the entire student body of Meridian High. If you and the other student accept this remarkable offer, our school will be given a two-hundred-thousand-dollar grant to use however we best see fit.

  We could restock our library, refinish the basketball court floor, pro-cure new music stands, buy new wrestling mats, and still have plenty to go around.” He leaned forward. “This is the biggest thing ever to happen to Meridian High. Your picture will hang proudly on our Hall of Fame.”

  “What if I can’t go,” I said.

  His expression fell. “And pass up this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?” He leaned forward, looking at me with an expression that was oddly both friendly and threatening. “I’m sure we can count on you to do the right thing.”

  I swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

  “I better let you get back to class. Don’t want to stand in the way of our greatest student. Do you need a tardy slip?”

  “Uh, no. I don’t think the bell’s rung yet.”

  “Right you are. You can go. Have a great day.”

  I walked out of his office more terrified than I had gone in.

  Ostin and Taylor were waiting for me outside fifth-period biology.

  Taylor didn’t look like she felt well.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She had a hand on her right temple. “I’m just upset.”

  “What happened?” Ostin asked. “Why did they call you down to the office?”

  I was still processing everything, and I didn’t want to upset Taylor any more than she already was. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Ostin’s brow furrowed. “Did you get in trouble?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” I repeated.

  “Let’s just go to class,” Taylor said. “I need to get my mind off of this.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  Taylor didn’t say much during biology. Actually she didn’t say anything. She looked like it was all she could do to not go running out. More than anything I wanted to reach over and hold her hand. I didn’t blame her for being afraid. I was afraid. Actually, I was terrified. I had no idea who those people were and what they would do.

  I met Taylor in the hallway after class. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded but said nothing. Ostin walked up. He looked as nervous as we were.

  “You remember the plan?” I asked Taylor.

  She nodded again.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll p
ick you up at five.”

  “I’ll meet you at the front of the school.”

  “Are your parents home?” I asked.

  “They don’t get home today until after five. Why?”

  “Just in case my mother needs to talk to them.”

  “I hope not.” She sighed. “I’ll see you later.”

  “See you.”

  She turned and walked off to the gymnasium.

  Ostin and I walked in the opposite direction out of the school.

  We hadn’t even left the schoolyard when I said to him, “I don’t feel right about this. Maybe we should stay with her.”

  “That would seem weird.”

  “So?”

  “If she’d wanted us to stay she would have asked.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re probably right.”

  “So what did Dallstrom want?”

  “I’ve been offered a scholarship to Elgen Academy.”

  Ostin blanched. “Oh no.”

  “It gets worse. They’ve bribed Dallstrom. They’ve offered the school two hundred thousand dollars if Taylor and I go.”

  “You’ll have to change schools—Dallstrom will make your life miserable if you don’t go.”

  “I know.”

  “When are you going to tell your mom about all this?”

  “I’m more worried about what to tell her. What if she wants me to go?”

  “This is bad,” Ostin said, shaking his head. “Really bad.”

  We walked the rest of the way home in silence.

  My mother got home from work a few minutes later than she planned—around a quarter of five. She called as she opened the door,

  “Michael, Ostin, you guys ready?”

  “We’re over here, Mom.” We were sitting in front of the television watching the Discovery Channel. It was Shark Week.

  “When is Taylor done?”

  “She has cheerleading until five.”

  “It’s almost five now,” she said. “We better hurry.”

  Mom, Ostin, and I climbed into the Toyota and drove over to the school. My mom pulled up to the school’s front steps and put the car in park.

  “Where are we meeting her?” my mom asked.

  “She said she’d be in front,” I said.

  “Maybe they’re running late,” Ostin said. “Or she went back inside.”