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After an hour in front of the screens, Meed pushed away from the console and flopped down onto the neat single bed against the opposite wall. Her gaze settled on the surveillance screen showing Dr. Savage in his cot. In fact, his cell was just a few feet away. If it weren’t for five layers of cement, soundproofing foam, and tempered steel, she could have reached out and touched him.
Meed stared at the professor as he shifted and turned under his blanket. His physical progress had been impressive. His genes were even stronger than she’d hoped. But mentally, he still needed toughening. He wasn’t nearly ready for what needed to be done.
Meed still didn’t feel like sleeping, but she was determined to try. She wrapped herself around her pillow and forced herself to close her eyes.
CHAPTER 37
Eastern Russia
13 Years Ago
THE STUDENTS STOOD in a circle, arms at their sides, eyeing each other nervously. The entire faculty sat on an elevated platform on the far side of the classroom, talking among themselves in a low murmur. Headmaster Kamenev sat at the center in a high-backed chair, saying nothing. Meed had heard that he always took a special interest in this particular final. His presence added a whole new layer of tension.
Like everybody else, Meed needed to pass this test to move on to the next level of training. And this was one course nobody wanted to repeat. It was mental agony. The preparation had consumed days and nights for weeks. The drills had been exhausting, and Meed’s brain felt close to a meltdown. But in ten minutes, one way or the other, it would be over. Kamenev shifted in his chair. The conversation from the faculty trailed off. Then the headmaster waved his hand toward the circle of students.
“Begin,” he called out. “And watch your words!” A few chuckles from the teachers, but not from the students. For them, this was dead serious.
Meed had drawn first position. She stepped to the center of the circle, chin up, projecting confidence, as if daring her classmates to do their worst. As her eyes moved around the circle, a tall Hispanic girl took a step forward to face her.
“Nepovjerenje je majka sigurnosti!”the girl said.
The language was Croatian. Not Meed’s strongest. She knew that she had to replicate the phrase exactly. No hesitation. No flaws. No hints that she had not spoken the language from birth. That was the only way to pass.
“Nepovjerenje je majka sigurnosti,”Meed repeated. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the language teachers nodding. Her pronunciation was impeccable.
She knew it. And so did they.
“Translation,” the Hispanic girl said. Part two of the challenge. This was harder. Several Croat nouns sounded very close to Serbian. Meed cleared her throat and spoke out clearly, praying that she was making the right choice.
“Distrust is the mother of safety,”she said.
Meed got it right. She knew it the moment the Hispanic girl lowered her eyes. As she stepped back into the circle, a boy with fair skin and blond hair stepped forward.
“Feri bewiha wisiti’inikuwani labi yi?onali,”he called out.
The boy’s Scandinavian looks were a distraction, but Meed wasn’t fooled. The language was Amharic, from the horn of Africa.
“Feri bewiha wisiti’inikuwani labi yi?onali,”Meed parroted back.
“Translation,” the blond boy said.
“A coward will sweat even in water,”said Meed.
With that answer, her confidence grew. One after another, her classmates stepped up to challenge her, faster and faster. Time after time, she took in the phrase, then adjusted her jaw, her tongue, her lips, her throat, to deliver it perfectly, like a native speaker. After Croatian and Amharic, there was Urdu. Then German. The final challenge was from Irina.
“Ek veit einn at aldrei deyr domur um dauoan hvern.”
It was Norwegian. Obscure and lyrical. To the rest of the room, the pronunciation sounded impossible. But Meed was fond of ancient poems.The Aeneid. Beowulf. And even the Old NorseHávamál,where Irina had found the quote. Meed repeated the phrase syllable for syllable, careful to distinguish her Norwegian inflection from Swedish.
“Translation,” said Irina.
Meed looked at her with a triumphant expression.
“I know one thing that never dies—the dead man’s reputation.”
Irina stepped back. That made five. All that was required. Meed was sure she had passed. She turned to take her place again in the circle. Then Kamenev stood up. Meed froze in place. The headmaster looked directly at her.
“One more, if you don’t mind,” he said.
