It takes us just as long to get back to the city as it did when leaving; however, the trip back seems much faster. Rian and I reach the ridge overlooking the facility, which is nestled almost entirely in the forest. From this distance, the complex looks less like a building than a sealed-off piece of the city: high walls, watchtowers, floodlights, and a wide access road cut through the surrounding trees.
I've seen this place plenty of times, but it never occurred to me to wonder why it was so heavily guarded. Now, I know why.
I crouch behind a low boulder and unfold Oren’s blueprints across my knees. The paper has softened at the creases from being carried all morning. Beside me, Rian studies the fence line through a pair of compact binoculars Tomas had provided.
“Two guards at the eastern checkpoint,” he murmurs. “A patrol moving along the south wall. I can’t see the service entrance from here.”
I trace the faded line that marks the maintenance corridor, “It should be beyond that stand of trees.”
“Should be,” Rian echoes. He lowers the binoculars. “Oren was honest about how much could have changed.”
“I’d rather know what we don’t know than pretend we know everything.”
He glances at me, a flicker of approval crossing his face, “That’s a better plan than most people come up with when they’re scared.”
“Well, I may still be scared, but I can still think straight.”
“I can see that.”
The plainness of his answer makes me look at him. He doesn’t offer a promise that nothing would go wrong. He doesn’t tell me I have no reason to be afraid. He simply accepts it, as if fear can be carried alongside us without deciding every step.
We wait for a patrol vehicle to pass the eastern road, then descend through the trees. The ground slopes toward a drainage channel partly hidden by brush. I keep one hand on the pack strap across my shoulder and the other near the small light clipped to my belt. I can hear the low hum of the facility’s generators through the soil, as though warning us to turn back.
At the channel, Rian kneels beside a metal grate. He brushes away leaves and checks the hinges.
“Still here,” he whispers.
“Is that good?”
“It’s something.”
He eases the grate up. I catch the edge before it can scrape against the concrete, then help him lower it silently onto the ground. A narrow passage stretches beneath the wall, smelling of damp earth and old metal.
Rian switches on the hand-cranked light. Its beam reveals pipes, a shallow stream of water, and a ladder fixed to the far end.
“We follow this until the first junction,” he says. “Then we check the markings against the plan.”
“And if the corridor doesn’t match?”
“We turn around.”
I nod, wanting to believe I can keep moving no matter what we find; however, Marla’s warning returns… the goal is to bring everyone home, not to prove I can endure anything.
We move through the passage one careful step at a time. At the junction, Rian holds the blueprint while I angle the light over the wall. The old maintenance label is still there, though its number has been changed. Oren’s route is mostly right, but the corridor beyond the junction has been blocked by a new security door.
Rian presses his palm against the metal, “This wasn’t on the plans.”
“Can you open it?”
“Not without setting off something I don’t understand,” he crouches to inspect the frame. “We need another way.”
My chest tightens. Every detour feels like time stolen from my parents, Jax, and Elara. I imagine them somewhere inside the complex, unable to know that I have made it this far.
Rian touches my sleeve, “We don’t rush just because we’re afraid.”
“I know,” I breathe in deeply. Who does he take me for? I glare at him and say, “I hate that you’re right.”
He gives me a quick, rueful smile, then points to a narrow service hatch above the pipes. It's secured with an old manual latch. I brace the ladder while Rian climbs and tests it.
The hatch opens with a faint metallic click.
Beyond it lies a utility room, lit by a single strip of white ceiling light. Rian climbs through first, checks the corners, then reaches down to help me up. I land beside a row of stacked maintenance carts and press myself against the wall as footsteps pass outside.
We don’t move until the sound fades.
The room’s door has a narrow window. Through it, I glimpse a corridor and a camera mounted near the ceiling. The camera’s lens turns slowly from side to side.
Rian leans close, keeping his voice low, “We’re inside the outer utility wing. We need to avoid the main corridors.”
I unfold the blueprint again, “The records room should be near the administrative section. If we can find the holding area from there…”
“We don’t split up,” Rian says.
“I wasn’t going to even suggest that.”
“I know. I just need to hear us say it.”
I look at him. Yeah right… he did seriously think I would suggest it. He’s trying to stay calm, but his fingers have curled tightly around the edge of the map. I guess it's understandable, this place is not only his father’s territory… it was part of the world that had shaped Rian, the place he had once visited without understanding what happened behind its locked doors.
“We stay together,” I promise him.
We wait for the camera to turn away, then slip into the corridor. Rian moves first, using the service doors and maintenance alcoves to keep us out of the camera’s direct view. I follow, counting turns and memorizing signs. We pass a closed room with a reinforced window. Inside, empty restraints hang from a wall.
I force myself to keep moving. I don't even want to imagine what way they use those.
At the next junction, a small display flashes a warning: ACCESS RESTRICTED. Beyond it, a pair of guards stand near a security station.
Rian draws back into the alcove, “We can’t pass them.”
I stare at the display, “Then we find another route.”
For the first time since entering, I feel something stronger than fear… a steady, stubborn certainty. We have crossed the wall. We have found a way through the first barrier.
Now we have to reach the people waiting somewhere beyond it, even at the risk of going against Marla’s warning.
It takes us a bit longer, but we finally find the records room behind a row of administrative offices, down a narrow corridor marked for staff access. The door is locked, but Rian spots a maintenance panel beside it. He studies the wiring diagram printed on the inside cover, then shakes his head.
“I can’t promise I can get this open without triggering an alert.”
I check the corridor behind us before I ask, “How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we don’t have long.”
He looks at me, and I can tell he's measuring the risk against the time we have already spent getting inside his father’s facility, and his father’s systems. Every choice here seems to demand that Rian must decide to either betray his father or side with him.
“Give me a minute,” he says.
I stand watch while he works.
“I'm surprised that you of all people would have a hard time with this,” I say under my breath.
He quickly glances at me, “What do you mean by that?”
“You heard that?” I ask as I stare at him.
He continues to quietly work on the lock, as if waiting for me to speak. Sighing, I finally say, “It’s just that… you’ve never seemed to have a hard time succeeding in anything you do. It’s refreshing to know that there are some things that even you aren’t good at.”
“Is that why you’re always trying to compete with me?”
“Wha.. I mean…”
“Well, I'm not Jax. If he were here, we would be in by now.”
I look away, not knowing what else to say. However, the panel saves me by giving off a faint buzz. At the same time, somewhere beyond the walls, a door slams, followed by distant voices. I tighten my grip on the light and listen until the sound moves away.
At last, the lock clicks.
Rian eases the door open, and we slip inside, closing it behind us.
The room is smaller than I expect, lined with storage terminals and shelves of sealed data cartridges. A long table stands beneath a dim ceiling fixture. There are no windows, only a vent near the floor and a second door at the far end.
Rian goes straight to the nearest terminal, “This might have access to facility records. If the system hasn’t been updated beyond what I remember.”
“Can you find where they’re holding people?”
“I can try.”
I move to the far door and check its handle. It’s locked. I lean close to the small window and see a dim corridor beyond it, empty for now.
“Rian.”
He looks up.
“There’s another way out.”
He joins me and examines the door, “That could lead toward the internal transport wing. If we’re lucky.”
“And if we’re not?”
“We’ll find out.”
He returns to the terminal. A progress bar crawls across the screen as the system searches. I pace once around the table, then stop. Moving won't make the data appear any faster. I set the packs down and take out the water, forcing myself to drink a little.
When Rian finally speaks, his voice has gone quiet.
“I found a holding schedule.”
I hurry to his side. Rows of coded entries fill the screen. Some are marked with numbers, others with restricted classifications. Rian scrolls carefully, his face growing more tense with each line.
“Here,” he says. “Temporary detention units. The entries are current.”
“Can you tell if they’re there?”
“Not by names. The system uses assigned codes,” he leans closer to the screen, “but there are separate units. Several people were transferred in recently.”
I take in a deep breath, “Could one of those be my parents?”
“Possibly. I can’t tell yet.”
He searches another file. A list of transfer destinations appears, with a set of codes that matches the facility map. Rian compares them against the old blueprint, then taps a section near the central structure.
“This wing is restricted. The plans don’t show what’s inside, but it’s close to the detention units.”
“Could Jax and Elara be there?”
“I don’t know,” his eyes glance over the screen. “I’m trying to find a current location list.”
A warning flashes at the top of the terminal, and Rian freezes.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Someone accessed the system from another station,” he closes the file. “It might be routine… or it might mean the system noticed us.”
A faint chime sounds from the corridor.
My stomach drops.
Rian pulls up one last record. The heading reads: GENETIC STABILITY PROGRAM. Beneath it are references to recurring replication errors, controlled research subjects, and an authorization code I recognize from Director Vale’s message.
I look down the page.
“Rian,” I whisper. “What does that mean?”
He reads the entries, his expression shifting from concentration to alarm. “It looks like they’ve been tracking genetic instability in the clone population.”
“And they’re hiding it?”
“I think so. These records are restricted. There are reports of replication failures and attempts to correct them.”
I think back to what Marla told me about my birth mother’s work, about the repeating patterns and accumulating imperfections. The discovery had not been an isolated suspicion. The government knew all along.
“Could my DNA fix it?” I ask.
Rian doesn’t answer immediately. “That might be why my dad wants you, but we can’t know from this.”
I stare at the screen, at the cold rows of data that reduces people to codes and errors. My existence is not just a secret. It’s a possible solution to a problem the government has helped create. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Yet, I wonder why it has to be me. Wouldn’t any natural born DNA work?
Heavy footsteps sound outside the door.
Rian shuts down the terminal, “We need to move. It’s not safe for you here.”
“But we haven’t found them.”
“I know, but we will. Just… not now,” his voice is strained. “We have locations to check, and now we know what they’re hiding. We can’t help them if we get caught in this room.”
I gather the packs. I want to argue, to demand that we keep searching until we have names and exact locations, but Rian is right. We have found enough to make the next step possible, and enough to prove the danger is bigger than I have understood.
We slip through the far door into the internal corridor. It’s empty, but the alarm chime sounds again, closer this time. Did we set off the alarm?
Rian leads me toward the utility wing, following the route we have memorized. I keep the map folded in my hand and try to hold on to every detail… the detention codes, the restricted research program, the fact that Director Vale’s promise may never be a simple bargain.
At the service hatch, Rian pauses and looks back toward the inner corridors.
For a moment, he seems torn between going farther and getting me out. I see the old pull of his father’s world… the desire to know what is hidden, to understand the machinery that had shaped his life.
Then, he turns toward me.
“Ready?”
I nod, though I’m far from ready. What about my parents… Jax… Elara? I know it’s time for us to go, but I have the urge to go further and look for them.
We climb back into the passage and lower the hatch behind us. The alarm remains distant, but it follows us through the pipes like a warning we can’t escape.
We entered the facility undetected, found evidence of the truth Director Vale wanted buried, and we learned that the people we came to rescue are somewhere inside, separated and vulnerable.
I press the blueprint against my chest as we make our way toward the drainage channel.
We have a way in.
Now, we need a way back out… with everyone.
\