The Elementalists

Chapter 20

Rai

*Part 1*

It's funny. Sometimes you have the weirdest conversations at the weirdest times. You know?

Like me and my headphones. It's been so long since I've used them, I'd almost forgotten about them. But they're always here when I need them, like an old friend.

I could really, really do with a friend.

*

I hear the capsule speak. I press my hand to her heart and the woman speaks to me. In my head.

'Thank you,' she whispers. 'Thank you.'

Sammi was right. The capsule really does feel like everything, and nothing. I can feel its loose, flowing bonds, the ones that glide smoothly together, elegantly rolling over each other like a river. Although the capsule is rigid on the outside, inside, it's alive—a living, breathing organism. Power floods to my fingertips. I focus all my efforts into grasping each and every particle that I possibly can.

'Please—do it quickly. One good, strong burst. That will be enough. Please. Do it now.'

And so, I do.

*

The blast tears through the cables, sparks fly, and in an explosion of grey, she bursts apart. Chunks spatter in every direction; one hits me in the chest and I topple backwards, landing painfully on my back. A collective gasp ripples around the group. Kass's face crumples, and his barricade disintegrates.

Futurists pour in through the newly-uncovered door, but the pain in my chest—in my heart—is consuming. Overwhelming. So much so, I barely even see them. I shake my head, over and over, as chaos erupts around me. Inside me, nothing happens.

Why? I ask myself. My reti-chip springs into diagnostic action, feeding me information through my headphones as a Futurist grabs me by my arms and wrenches me backwards. . .

Our sensors detect a blockage, they say. Twist your finger into the suction pad to clear it. You are also due for a dosage raise—please report to your local medical facility.

Great. I reach up and poke my finger inside the hole between the pads on the back of my neck.

Ahh.

'No, you don't!' The Futurist yanks my arm back down to my side, but I've done it; something internal shifts, and I shake my head again.

A huge, calming wave sweeps through me, and I close my eyes, sighing with relief as the weight on my heart lifts. I feel light, light as air. I can still hear the shouting, the screaming, but it floats over me, not bothering me at all. I blink lazily at the Futurists as they rip the canisters from my back, stripping me of my empty weapons. At Dimitrov, as they knock him to his knees; at Kass, whose feet kick the air as he's flung over a Futurist's shoulder—

I guess I never really believed that we'd rescue the missing Elementalist anyway. I guess I've always known that I'm meant to be used.

*

A great, white pad drifts down through the hole in the ceiling, and with grunts of effort, the Futurists pile us on. By now, we're all bound and gagged except for Hughes, who lies weakly on her side bleeding onto the snow-white surface. Slowly, the pad begins to rise.