I Am Number Four - Pittacus Lore Page 0,6

out into a huge open area. The place smells like sulfur, and there are big black rectangles spotting the metal floor, pits full of the dark sludge that gets pumped into augmented soldiers, and that incubates the vatborn.

These are the healing vats.

“He rests below us,” Zakos says. “Already he has begun to recover. It won’t be long before he walks among us again.”

“So quickly?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says, sounding a little annoyed. “He designed this system when he brought us the vatborn and the Great Book of Mogadorian Progress. You must trust in his knowledge, Phiri.”

I grit my teeth at the implication that I don’t and manage to keep myself from clawing at the doctor’s face. Meanwhile, he’s taken an interest in my bandaged palms.

“May I?” he asks.

I begrudgingly offer him my hands. He takes off one of the bandages.

“Burns,” he says. “Energy based, but not blaster fire. You should have told me about them sooner.”

“They’re from some sort of force field I encountered at the Loric Sanctuary,” I say. “I don’t need them healed. They’re a good reminder of what happens when I am less than Beloved Leader would like me to be.”

“He would like you at your full potential.” Zakos drops my hands and points to one of the dark rectangles in the floor. “I’ll get you some clean bandages. If you’ll spread a little bit of the vat liquid on your palms, they’ll be healed in no time.”

I walk over to the vat and stare down into the slick darkness. A few seconds pass before I stick two fingers into the black sludge. It’s viscous and warm, but when I spread it over my wounds, it starts to tingle, turning cold.

I let out a sharp breath.

“Yes,” Zakos says, coming up from behind me. “It can be quite jarring.”

He takes my hands again, cleaning off the excess ooze with a towel before starting to rewrap them in clean, white bandages. He’s finishing up my first hand when he speaks again.

“You are a strong soldier, Phiri Dun-Ra.”

I don’t respond.

“I need strong soldiers.”

“For what?” I ask. “To retrieve more subjects for you? I’m not a delivery service.”

“Of course not,” he says with a slight smirk. He starts on my other hand. “I misspoke. He needs you. I’m working on something for Beloved Leader—a project he is most interested in. A new way to arm our troops.”

“He’s developed new augmentations?” I ask.

“Something like that. But only the strongest among us will be able to wield his new weapons. Not just trueborn, but those with physical and mental strength. Endurance. And loyalty.”

He looks me in the eyes.

“That’s you, Phiri,” he says. “Before he flew to the Sanctuary, Beloved Leader left me with very specific plans and goals concerning the future of Mogadorian Progress, and I know that nothing would make him happier than to emerge from the vats with a new force to command. Will you serve our glorious commander and ascend to the level he requires of you?”

I stare back at him, trying to process what he’s saying. But in the end, I know there is only one answer to this question.

“I will do whatever Beloved Leader asks of me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says as he finishes bandaging my other hand. “I’ll begin the preparations at once. I’ll send for you when I’m ready. Go get some rest.” He grins. “Evolution can be a painful process.”

CHAPTER FIVE

AFTER MEETING WITH ZAKOS, I HEAD TO MY OLD quarters at the mountain base. It holds none of my personal belongings other than a few old uniforms and a dog-eared copy of the Great Book. And yet it feels good to be back there after so many nights camped out in Mexico, wondering how the hell I was going to break through the Sanctuary’s force field. On the small bed in the room I sleep the deep, dreamless sleep of one who has been running on nothing but adrenaline for days.

I’ve barely woken the next morning when Dr. Zakos sends for me. It’s well past sunrise. I know my body needed the rest, but I still feel lazy, like I should have been awake at dawn and doing something, anything, to help the invasion move forward.

I catch myself in the mirror before heading to the lab. My eye isn’t as swollen as it was but has begun to bruise, turning one side of my face into a mixture of purples, yellows and deep blacks. My mind flashes with thoughts of being tied

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