Gloria looked at the second scientist. “Mao, I think we’re done for the day. You can go home.”
“No, wait,” Mary said. Gloria frowned at her. This wasn’t part of the plan, but… “Before you leave, there is someone I need you to bring here. Flint Fydler from the tech department. He’s tall, bearded, wears a baseball cap. Hard to miss.”
Mao darted a nervous glance between Gloria and Mary. “It’s nine in the morning. Are you sure you want me to go home?”
“Yes,” Gloria said, following Mary’s lead. “After you deliver Flint to us.”
Mary exhaled in relief. They’d talked at length about the plan and possible variables, but sometimes Gloria missed social queues.
Gloria was the surrogate and lead geneticist on the Project. Despite donating her eggs, she refused to be called the mother because she had no contact with the children. Their loud and sudden noises flustered her. In fact, much about the children flustered her, so she watched and recorded from behind the two-way mirror. Gloria was the only person in this godforsaken place who knew and supported Mary’s plan to extricate the children.
It hadn’t been easy convincing Gloria. It had taken most of the two years, many demonstrations of predictions, and in the end, Gloria respected Mary’s gift. She said magic was just science we didn’t understand yet. Much of the work Gloria did seemed like magic to Mary, including what she was doing right now.
“Is there anything else, Mao?” Gloria asked.
Mao lifted his eyebrows and returned his clipboard to the bench before exiting the room.
Five
When Flint had arrived at his desk, he took off his hat and set about his routine. Every day he did the same things. Started his computer, popped in some mint chewing gum, tidied his papers and machine parts, answered his emails, and filled out his schedule in his daily planner. And lastly, he touched each of the smooth pebbles Sister Mary had gifted him and made sure they sat in order of size, from biggest to smallest.
He’d started his collection by picking up flat smooth rocks on his morning run. Mary must have seen his collection, or perhaps he’d mentioned his strange fascination once in the coffee room, because she dropped off pebbles when she thought no one was watching. Except, her pebbles had hidden messages painted underneath them. Usually just a casual quote, or joke… nothing to show it was her, but Flint had caught her on the security tapes. She never mentioned the rocks, so he didn’t ask, thinking it was just another secret between them.
Flint liked to leave boxes of chocolates and treats in the fridge labeled innocently as Sister Mary’s, don’t touch! Today it was the chocolate pudding.
Remembering the fallen paper that had escaped Mary’s pocket in the lobby, Flint pulled it out and opened it. Gibberish. Code.
He frowned.
Was this another secret between them, or something else?
A loud sound at another desk had him packing the coded letter away. He had no time now. First, there was footage to erase. Then, the final diagnostics on his new disruptor gadget, a round metal sphere. Ten o’clock was only an hour away, and the boss would be in.
The device was perfect. It worked as planned.
He had to show Barry.
Flint navigated back to the lab nearest the reception area. His friend Barry bustled about his station, laying metallic tools and supplies on the bench. Barry was a few years younger than Flint, shorter too. He was part Indian, part British, part douchebag because what he lacked in centimeters, he more than made up for in brains and had the ego to match. No one else in this lab was smarter than him—except maybe Gloria. No one else put up with Flint’s grump and snark, but Barry did. That’s because his snark was just as good.
They’d been friends since Barry and Flint sat in the same group interview room eight years ago. They had asked the thirty people in the room a series of stupid questions, like—what sound does a dog make, then asked to do the sound. Most people barked like dogs, but not Barry and Flint. Instead, they asked divergent questions like, is the dog from this planet? What breed of dog is it. Is it a real dog, or inanimate? Barry and Flint were the only two to get the job. That was eight years ago.
A familiar pang sliced through Flint’s chest and suddenly, he was back there—eight years earlier and just after the worst decision in his life. Just before he got the job at Biolum Industries, he’d been out drinking with a buddy. When it was time to go home, he’d been so intoxicated he could barely stand straight, but he’d still had the sense to think, We shouldn’t drive home. Pity his sense didn’t extend to his mouth. He should have stopped his friend, but his mother’s home was only five minutes down the road, and Flint was too lazy to drive another five minutes to his apartment.
The next morning, Flint’s shrill phone had woken him up. He still remembered the pause the police woman gave before she spoke, and the sound of a kettle whistling in his mother’s kitchen. After dropping Flint off, his buddy had continued on and crashed into a car, killing himself and a mother and father, leaving a baby girl orphaned.
Not a day went by that he didn’t regret his negligence. He played scenarios over in his head. What if he’d said for his friend to stay at his for the night? What if he’d called him a cab? He could have taken his keys… she’d still have her parents, maybe a brother or sister… No amount of money could make up for that loss, but when he’d heard about Biolum Industries and their humanitarian project, Flint had signed up the very next day so he could forward most of his paycheck to the orphaned girl. That pang stabbed again. He’d probably always feel it, but each time he sent money to that child, it eased a little more.
“Greetings and salutations,” Barry said as he lifted the lid on a glass cylinder filled with a preserved specimen. Ethanol or some other alcoholic fragrance filled the air as it splashed over the rim and onto Barry’s white lab coat.
Flint almost gagged. “Shit, how can you stand that smell?”
“How can you stand the smell of melted metal when you’re soldering?”
“I use a mask.”
“Yeah, well, this isn’t toxic, just stinky.”
Flint waved his hand across his nose and watched in fascination as his friend pulled a lifeless form out of the cylinder with tweezers and laid it on a metallic pad. Amphibian.
“What is it?” Flint asked as he reorganized Barry’s tools without permission. He couldn’t help it. Barry was a mess.
“This, my good friend, is a Hairy Frog,” Barry declared.
Flint laughed. “Okay, I can see it’s hairy, but what’s it called?”
“Its scientific name is Trichobatrachus Robustus. Highly terrestrial, carnivorous and… see those?” Barry lifted a front limb with the tweezers. “Bone claws that extend from its fingertips when under attack. When they retract, the damaged tissue regenerates. Magic.”
“Cool.”
“Not as cool as this.” Barry pulled another jar from a shelf lined with specimens. He unscrewed the cap and lifted out another slimy slug like creature. “This is an Axolotl. It can regenerate complete body parts—even major organs like a brain. And that slimy slug-face over there is a Tardigrade or Water Bear as it’s more commonly known.” Barry’s intelligent eyes held Flint’s for dramatic effect. “It can survive for up to one hundred and twenty years without food, invulnerable to freezing or boiling, and can withstand six times the equivalent of the ocean’s pressure.”
Flint whistled in awe, then placed his gadget on the bench. “But can it disrupt three floors of tech like this?”
“No shit? Three floors?”
“Yup. I’m gonna get the bonus.”
“I disagree. I haven’t even shown you the best part.” Barry bent low to a fridge wedged beneath the lab bench and opened the door. He pulled out a jar with a child-sized human hand floating in the fluid.
“Jaysuz.” Flint flinched. “What the hell, bro?”
“Oh, it’s not real. Well, it is. But I grew it.” Barry placed the jar with the hand specimen on the counter
top next to the others. He eyed it like a proud papa bear. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“You grew that?”
“Yep. I combined the stem cells Gloria supplied and grafted a combination of spliced DNA from—”
Flint held up his hand, stopping Barry in his tracks. “Spare me the details. Cut to the chase.”
Barry laughed. “It’s not new knowledge. Scientists have been able to replicate body parts in jars for years, but… I can grow you another body part at ten times the normal speed. You lose an arm, I’ll get you a new one in two years.”
“Shit, you will win the bonus. And I really need it.” Flint needed a new tire. He needed to put away extra money. College was expensive. He only had a handful of years before he had to think about that. The orphaned girl would need help.
“Shut it,” Barry added. “You know how good your shit is. You’re only here because my desk is the closest to the Project door.”
“You ever wonder what’s going on in there?” Flint nodded at the frosted door behind the reception area. It was only a few yards away.
Barry snorted. “Nope. Don’t care, mate. I got my own problems to work out. Like how to stabilize the rate of cellular division at a certain marker in time because, at the moment, the limb just keeps growing until adult size, then shrivels and dies.” Barry scratched his brown hair, gaze turning inward. “I’m almost there, I can feel it.”
Flint’s mood picked up. Maybe he’d win the bonus after all. He glanced back at the frosted glass door behind reception. They got paid the best in there, and it was where he aspired to be. He didn’t even know if they needed someone like him in there, but he had to try. For college tuition.
“The nuns walk in fresh,” Flint said, “and then walk out frazzled. I don’t get it. Why would they need nuns? And why do they look so exhausted when they come off shift? And, speaking of that, why do they work in shifts? Around the clock. Morning. Night. Behind guarded doors.”
“Well, if you ever get level six clearance, you can tell me. Until then, I have to finish.” After a moment, Barry lifted his head. “You going to stand there all day?”
“What? No… I just…”
“You wanted a glimpse of your gorgeous nun.”
Heat flared up the back of Flint’s neck and his temper returned. “She’s hiding something.”
“Her double D cups?”
“I’m serious, bro.”
“Me too. Go away. I want to make progress before the boss gets here.”
“I have theories.”
“I know about your theories. I’ve heard about them for the past eight years.”
Flint leaned on the counter and poked the dead frog leg with his pointer. “Come on, Barry. Don’t tell me you’re not curious about what we’re doing here.”
“Get your finger off my Hairy Frog.”
“Sorry.” Flint took his hand back.
Barry took a deep breath. “You’re trying to bait me, and it won’t work. I don’t ask questions because questions get you fired. You remember what happened to Josie down in receiving last year.”
Flint bit his lip. “Yeah. Actually, no, she just disappeared. But I guess that’s the point.”
“Just be happy knowing that we’re working toward a better future.”
“But, bio-tech-weapons?”
Barry shrugged. “We don’t know that.”
“What else does a company with a genetics lab, weapons workshop, and armed guards make?”
“Would it make a difference?” Barry asked. “If you knew what was going on behind the door? You still need your money, yeah? Now, enough of your blabbering. Push off before I run out of time to sort out my presentation.”
“Fine.” Flint picked up his gadget but stopped. Someone was coming out of the Project room.
It was Mao, one Gloria’s assistants. Flint didn’t get along with Mao. He didn’t get along with many people, but especially the scientists who worked with Gloria. They weren’t talkative, and when you wanted to probe them for secretive Project information, it made for awkward conversations.
When Mao reached the reception desk, he asked Lizzy something. She pointed in Flint’s direction. Mao’s eyes met Flints. Oh no. Did he do something wrong? Did the Sister snitch about the elevator? He shouldn’t have made Mary touch him inappropriately. Dick move.
Mao broke eye contact first and walked over.
“What do you want?” Flint asked before Mao spoke.
Barry glanced up, noticing the newcomer.
“Gloria would like to speak with you,” Mao answered.
“When?” Flint asked.
“Now. In the lab.”
Both Flint’s and Barry’s eyes widened.
“In the lab?” Flint confirmed. “As in, her lab?”
“Behind the Project door?” Barry added.
“Yes. Follow me, thank you.”
“But it’s—”
“Just go, Flint,” Barry urged. His unsaid words hung in the air. Flint might not get another chance to see what’s behind the door.
Six
Flint followed Mao past reception, beyond the frosted barrier and down a corridor where two GI Joes guarded a door. Man, they were bad-asses. Neither blinked until Mao explained Flint’s purpose for being there, and then they sized him up. It seemed Gloria was the magic word. Mao used the retinal scanner and the door behind them opened.
Inside was another lab, much like Flint had imagined. Two desks with a computer sat near a medical bed surrounded by surgical equipment. Shelves with more animal specimens. Insects. Slimy things. Furry things. A small kitchenette to another side. Bright LED lighting throughout. The room was a cross between a research laboratory and an operating theater.
What really surprised Flint was the two-way mirror on the far wall and the empty living quarters behind it.
Then he saw.
Baby bassinets and cots. Four of them, lined in a row, and another three small beds. Seven in total. His gut wrenched and his gaze traveled over the room. What the—?
“Thank you, Mao,” came a feminine voice from Flint’s side, making him jolt. “You can leave.”
Flint’s gaze swung to his left where Gloria stood. He was struck by her beautiful skin so pale he could almost see through it. Probably from hours spent working indoors. Maybe a few exfoliations. Whatever women did. Her eyes rivaled the Sister’s in size and, yet, it fit together with her wide lips perfectly. Too perfect. It was the kind of beauty that made it hard to form lasting connections. Women wanted to be her, and men wanted to keep her… and then his eyes snagged on her swollen belly and his already twisted gut pulled into a knot. Fuck. Shit. He had a bad feeling about this. The pregnancy. The children’s furniture…
But then, Sister Mary Margaret stepped up and smiled at him, and his unease relaxed. Hers was a different kind of beauty to Gloria. She was calming, natural, confident. Surely if a nun was involved in this project, it couldn’t be all bad.
Mao left the room, leaving a charged atmosphere.
Flint fumbled with the gadget in his pocket.
“Please, sit,” Gloria said and gestured to a chair at her desk. With the help of the Sister, she lowered her awkward body into her seat and then patted the nun’s hand. “Thank you, Mary.”
Flint noticed straight away that Gloria omitted the nun’s official title. Just Mary? What the fuck was going on?
Mary gave Gloria a sweet smile and took a position behind her, standing at her shoulder like a soldier on guard.
Flint sat down as indicated. His grip on his gadget tightened. His knuckles whitened.
“Why am I here?” he asked.
“You are here, Mr. Fydler, because we want to hire you.” Gloria opened a notebook on her desk and wrote down something on a blank page. His name. The date. A bullet point.
He frowned. “Aren’t I already employed by Biolum Industries?”
“This is true, but… call this a promotion then.”
Flint’s immediate elation was da
mpened with logic. Something felt off about this. The gnawing feeling inside didn’t like what he saw through that two-way. If he worked here, what would he have to become?
“Despite receiving a glowing recommendation from Mary, I need to do my due diligence. I’d like to ask you a few questions, first. Make sure you are the right man for the job.”
Flint’s eyebrows lifted and he glanced at Mary. A glowing recommendation? For a brief moment his disbelief was tempered as she held his gaze with steady eyes, but then she glanced at Gloria’s notes.
This must be some weird, whacked out dream because there was no way in hell he’d work for a company making children in some evil Dr. Seuss lab. There was no way Mary would be involved in something like that. Doubt danced around the edges of his mind. That coded letter… What if he was wrong?
“Please tell me about yourself, Mr. Fydler—”
“Flint, please.”
“—okay, Flint.” Gloria wrote, taking special care to dot the i and cross the t.
He shifted in his seat. “What do you want to know?”
“Start with how long you’ve been working at Biolum?”
“Since the Project started. Eight or so years.”
Gloria scribbled. “And what is it you do here?”
Flint frowned. “You want to give me a promotion, but you don’t know what I do?”
Aw shit. He needed to get out of here right now.
Gloria cocked her head, watching Flint with curiosity. She stilled for a moment, thinking, and then said, “The truth is, that you’re here because of your relationship with Mary.”
“What?”
Was it that obvious? Did everyone know how he felt about Mary? Heat prickled his skin. His beard got itchy and he scratched. Shit.
“We need someone we can trust, and Mary trusts you,” Gloria added. “But if you could continue answering the question, please?”
“Ah. Okay. I have a double degree in mechanical engineering and computer science. I started with the company as Tech Support and now I’m in Research and Development.” He lifted his spherical gadget from his pocket. “I make anything from weapons, to… things like this. It’s a disruption device. Set it off and it will shut down anything electrical within a thirty foot radius. That’s about three levels high.” Flint realized he was about to launch into a tech-nerd explanation of the device and stopped himself. Both Gloria and the sister watched him patiently.
Sinner: The Deadly Seven, Origins Page 3