Redeemed by Margaret Peterson Haddix Page A

recognized Deep Voice’s molecular structure, and they didn’t recognize Jordan’s. Maybe even walls were that individualized in the future.
    Why make things so complicated? Jordan wondered.
    He sounded like his grandparents, who complained about their cell phones being confusing.
    He sat down at the table. He hadn’t run his hand over every inch of the table and chairs yet, so he did that, too.
    Nothing, nothing, nothing . . .
    He had his hand under the chair Deep Voice had sat in, when he felt a little ridge. It was probably just a rough spot in the wood—or plastic, or whatever the chair was made of. But, just in case, he flipped the chair over.
    Words glowed up at him from the underside of the chair: TO EXIT, PRESS HERE.
    Jordan pressed.
    Instantly three of the cubicle walls vanished, and he was staring out at the lab, which was much darker than it had been before. He couldn’t even make out the two cubicles on the other side of the room where Jonah and Katherine had been taken.
    Maybe I figured out how to get out before they did, he thought. And I can rescue them, and that will make up for getting them stuck in the cubicles in the first place.
    Or maybe they’d figured out how to escape hours ago, and hadn’t bothered coming to rescue him.
    Jonah probably wouldn’t care, but Katherine would have rescued me, if she could. Wouldn’t she?
    Jordan took a step forward, stepping into a spot where there’d been a wall only moments before. So now he was out. This wasn’t just another illusion.
    Jordan’s step forward also enabled him to see a figure sitting in the darkness, back by the desk where Jordan, Katherine, and Jonah had hidden earlier in the day. Whoever it was wasn’t enormous enough to be Deep Voice. Jordan didn’t think it was Doreen or Tattoo Face, either.
    â€œKatherine?” Jordan whispered hopefully. “Mom? Dad?”
    â€œGuess again,” a voice called back.
    It was Second.

FIFTEEN
    â€œYou—You—” Jordan sputtered. “You’ve just been playing tricks on us, haven’t you?”
    â€œMaybe,” Second admitted.
    Jordan rushed toward him, his hands out. He hadn’t quite decided yet if he was going to grab Second by the shoulders and shake him, or if he was going to go straight into punching mode.
    It didn’t matter. Jordan felt himself completely immobilized in running pose, his feet inches off the floor, his outstretched hands a full yard away from Second’s shoulders and face.
    â€œNow, now,” Second scolded him. “That hot temper of yours isn’t going to help.”
    â€œYou’re just manipulating me!” Jordan accused. “You’ve been manipulating all of us all along, haven’tyou?” His mind started putting things together. “Were you manipulating the Elucidators, too? And Deep Voice didn’t get out of that cubicle by pressing a button on his chair, did he?”
    â€œDeep Voice?” Second asked blankly. Then he chuckled. “Oh, you mean Interchronological Rescue employee Markiel Katun? ‘Deep Voice’ really isn’t a bad name for him. Though you also could have gone with ‘Bigfoot’ or ‘Mount Human’ or—”
    â€œStop joking around!” Jordan demanded. “Tell me the truth! Was all this some big setup? Do those people who captured us even work with Gary and Hodge, or was that a lie too?”
    â€œNow you’re thinking,” Second congratulated him.
    Jordan felt himself land on his feet again. He moved his arms forward and back, experimentally. He wasn’t frozen anymore. But he figured it could happen again if he took another step toward Second.
    He stayed where he was.
    â€œAh, and now you’re showing some self-restraint. Good for you!” Second continued.
    Jordan still felt like punching him. He went back to asking questions instead.
    â€œWell? What’s really going