Page 53 of Dark Destiny: The Fates' Bargain

"Is the equipment fortified enough to withstand the Kra-ell?" Number Two asked. "They are as strong as we are. Possibly stronger."

"Stronger," Theo said, without hesitation. "And no, there isn't a punching bag that can survive a Kra-ell in a bad mood, and they are always in a bad mood. If you're anywhere near their strength class, go easy on the bags or stay away from them. Getting replacements with those specifications takes time and costs a lot of money."

Number One crossed to a row of unfamiliar machines with long belted platforms, rails, and glowing consoles. "What are these?"

"Treadmills." Theo pushed off the rack and came over. "You run on them. The belt moves under you, you match its speed, and you can run for hours without going anywhere. Good for endurance training."

Number One put his hand on the rail. "We trained with weights on the island, but we ran on the ground. Seems frivolous to have machines for running when it costs nothing to run outside."

"Welcome to the modern world." Theo tapped the console, and the belt hummed to life, crawling forward at a walking pace. "Speed's adjustable. Incline too, if you want to simulate hills."

"How fast can it go?"

"These models are built with immortal specifications. Forty-five miles an hour, max."

Number One converted the number to what he was more familiar with. It was a little over seventy-two kilometers an hour, more than adequate even for their enhanced speed.

"That should do," he said.

"Hello, gentlemen," Dimitri announced himself as he came through the doors. "I see you have started without me."

"Theo has been showing us the equipment," Number One said. "You haven't missed much." He tapped the handle of the running machine. "These are called treadmills. You can run on them instead of training outside."

"I know what they are." Dimitri smiled. "I haven't been living under a rock my entire life, only a large chunk of it."

He hadn't been a prisoner of the island for long, but before that he'd been imprisoned in a gulag in his home country. Given how young he was, he was right about that being a large chunk of his life. So far. He was an immortal now, with endless years ahead of him, so eventually that portion would shrink.

"Wait until you see the movie theater." Dimitri stopped beside the treadmill and tapped the display to stop the belt. "Jay has just shown it to me, and I'm declaring tonight a movie night. After dinner, you eight, myself, Petrov if he can stay awake, and the ladies, which means that the movie we choose can't be overly violent."

"War and suspense films were the only ones ever shown on the island," Number Two said. "What else is there?"

"Romance and comedy," Dimitri said. "You wanted to learn about love, so a romantic comedy will work for everyone."

Number Two grimaced, reflecting the collective's opinion of watching actors pretend to love one another. War movies were much more interesting.

"I see that fictional romance does not appeal to you." Dimitri must have read the response on their faces. "I have the perfect film that should appeal to everyone. It's old, but it's good. It has submarines, tension, brilliant men outmaneuvering each other, and almost no on-screen violence. It is calledTheHunt for Red October, and it is about a Russian submarine crew defecting to the West. They offer the revolutionary technology in exchange for asylum, but their counterparts in the West think it's a trick."

The collective processed that information and found the subject of the movie apt for the situation.

Number One nodded. "A crew who defects together with a revolutionary technology to an enemy who does not trust them. Sounds familiar."

"I thought it might resonate." Dimitri smiled. "The captain spends the entire film trying to convince the Americans he comes in peace, while they try to decide whether it's a trap."

"It sounds intriguing," Number One said aloud. "We will watch it."

The gym doors opened again, and Bowen came through with another male the collective hadn't seen before. He wasn't a Guardian given his lanky build, and he was carrying a case that he set down on the nearest bench.

"Evening," Bowen said. "This is Zach from the tech lab, and he comes bearing gifts."

Zach flipped the case open. Inside, nested in foam, lay a row of phones. He picked up one of them.

"Each of you gets a phone. These are clan-built, our own hardware, our own network, and they come with security restrictions. You can call and message the women you helped escape, the scientists, Anita, Mattie, and a shortlist of approved Guardians. That's the whole contact list, and it's locked for now. You've got full web access, browse whatever you want, read anything, watch anything, but you won't be able to send anything out. No outbound messages, no calls other than those to approved contacts, no posts, nothing written or spoken."

The collective understood. In fact, they were pleasantly surprised to be given that much. So far, the cage that the clan had put them in was proving generous and comfortable.

"Thank you," Number One said.

"Are we getting any?" Dimitri asked.