The helicopter comes into a bumpy landing, and the roar of the rotors dies away. One of the wardens jumps up and pulls me to my feet, shoving me out ahead of him through the side door of the cabin. The hop down to the landing pad almost makes my legs give way, but somehow I remain standing. We're on the very top deck of the ship, looking down over a metal rail at the lower decks. Down there, everything is metal. Pipes and conduits spread like tangled vines over the armoured decking. A series of small cranes are busy winching aboard metal crates and bulky pieces of equipment. Wardens and Academy scientists mill about everywhere. They're loading up the Academy, all their sick research, all their implements of torture, all their guns and weapons. I wonder if they're bringing their test subjects with them as well, or if they were considered disposable. After all, wherever Ingleman chooses to take his little project there's bound to be children available for the taking. For a moment I think of Laura's brother, Darren. It feels like a hand squeezing at my heart. I hope for her sake he's still alive.
Before I can see anything more the hood is pulled over my head once more, and the warden starts shoving me along the deck. The noise of all the activity becomes muffled, and I sense that we've passed through a door. I hear our footsteps clanking along the metal floor. I hear my own breathing. I hear Laura's pained and wretched sobs.
We descend a flight of stairs, then another. Turn left then right then left again. Within minutes I'm completely disorientated. Lost in the metal belly of this hideous ship. I'm never going to walk out, I think madly. This is it. I've seen the sky for the last time. I'm going to die down here, like a beast in a slaughterhouse.
We turn once more, and then my warden rips the hood from my head and shoves me, hard, sending me toppling to the ground. A second later Laura tumbles down beside me. With her hood removed I can see that her face is stained by tears, and swollen below one eye. They must have hit her. Her eyes meet mine and she mouths my name.
"It'll be okay," I say. "We'll be okay. Just be calm." I don't even know what I'm saying. Just meaningless noise to stop her panicking. To stop myself panicking. Vainly, I hope it will happen quickly, when it happens. I hope that Ingleman won't want to linger.
I glance around. We're in a blank metal box of a room. Nothing but a few ducts, a metal door set with a thick glass porthole, and a heavy metal chair set in the very centre of the room. Everything grey. It stinks of sweat and oil. Ingleman and the two wardens are standing by the door, looking down at us.
Ingleman points at me. "This one first," he says.
