by Tara Ellis
“No,” Zane says to him. “Not all of us.”
“I’m not sure if I would use the word communicates,” I explain. “It first happened back when I escaped from the Mudameere. I walked through a room full of sleeping Shiners. I heard them inside my head before they woke up and saw me. They let me walk away. The second time was at the research lab in Hamilton, when we were trying to get everyone back. It was the same as before. One of them came out of a door near us, and I felt/heard them just as they got close. Then, a couple of weeks ago with Chris, it was a lot worse. Right before they attacked, it was more like a roar inside my head instead of loud white noise. It hurt. I was pretty much incapacitated for a while. But when I saw them going after Chris, something happened. I pushed back and they, I don’t know … obeyed me.”
“Obeyed you?” General James says, clearly alarmed.
“I screamed at them to stop, to leave him alone.”
“And they did,” Seth finishes. “Long enough for me and Benuk to take them out.”
“That’s not everything,” I say quietly, looking at Chris. “I can feel Chris now too, sometimes.” This causes an eruption of questions, all of them directed at me.
“Quiet!” Zane yells, and the silence is immediate. “Please explain what you mean, Alex.”
Still watching Chris, I search his face for a reaction. I can tell the moment when he comprehends what happened out on the range today. Neutrality is replaced by alarm, and when he meets my gaze, my throat clenches so that it’s hard to breathe. For the first time since that night when I came back from the Mudameere, and he saw my glowing eyes … I see fear.
Defeated, my shoulders sag and I have to look away from him. Instead, I seek out my mom, and it’s only because of her reassuring smile that I can continue. “When he first woke up after being sick, I felt his consciousness. That’s the best way I can describe it. Since then, I know when he’s getting close, and there have been a couple of times when he’s done something for me because I was thinking about it.”
“Like almost getting himself shot today?” the instructor chimes in.
Nodding silently, I look pleadingly again at Chris. “I’m sorry Chris, it isn’t intentional. It’s like if we’re close to each other, and I have a strong desire for something, you pick up on it.” My face turns red as I think back to earlier in the day. Had he kissed me that way because I wanted him to? Oh God, this could be complicated.
“It’s okay,” he responds immediately. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me on purpose.” Always the noble one, I’m sure he means it, but we both understand the reality of it. No matter how hard we try, our relationship is never going to be the same.
On the verge of tears, I turn away from the group at the table and stare at the whiteboard behind me. Why would the professor do this to me? It doesn’t make any sense. He didn’t even know I would take the pill for sure. It was only if I was infected. So then, it was some sort of fail-safe against the new infection. Am I part of a plan by the Khufu Bast that even the senator isn’t aware of? Wait!
“He might have left me a clue,” I say, spinning back toward the group. “Wait here.” My excitement growing, I run from the meeting room before any of them can try to stop me.
FIFTEEN
“The Genesis Project?” Senator Zane is holding the thin manila folder in front of him, looking at the smudged, hand-written tab with skepticism.
“I know it doesn’t look very impressive,” I admit. “But the professor went out of his way to make sure I would find that. In fact…it was my odd ability to see anomalies in structures that ultimately led me to it, along with this bracelet. Both of which the professor gave me if what we suspect is true.” The dainty and ornate brass bracelet I still wear was given to me at the same time as the pill, concealing it in a hidden compartment.
“Well, why in the world didn’t you say something before now?” Dr. Paul demands, trying to look over the senator’s shoulder as he opens the file.
“Because I had no idea that it might be about me,” I explain, understanding his scorn. “I thought it was about - ”
“Baxter?” Zane finishes. Baxter looks up from his position under the snack table, his ears lifting. Whining, he plods over to the head of the table and waits to be further addressed.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “Baxter isn’t what you would call a typical dog.” Baxter turns his head toward me, where I stand again at the whiteboard, and regards me with disdain. “I’m sorry, buddy, but we’ve got to talk about this.”
Zane pauses in his reading and raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re trying to tell me Baxter is the result of some sort of experiment Professor Hassan conducted?” This draws mixed reactions from everyone in the room. Chris is the only other person I had shared this information with.
“I knew it!” Jacob shouts, going to his dog and wrapping his arms around his neck. “Hey!” he exclaims, leaning away with brows furrowed. “Could you talk to me this whole time?” Barking once, Baxter licks Jake on the nose and then playfully pushes him off-balance so that he falls back onto his bottom.
“No Jake, he can’t talk,” I respond for my furry friend. “But he’s very smart, and I thought this document explained why. I never questioned if it might be about something else, especially not me. I was trying to protect Baxter.”
“Some of the formulas discussed on this first page don’t pertain to canines,” the doctor says absently. I know exactly what he’s talking about. The second page is pretty much full of various pictures of Baxter engaged in complex tasks. The first page has what I figured was a project outline, description, and some other scientific data that didn’t mean anything to me.
“So what’s it for?” Chris asks, leaning forward with obvious interest. I see everyone is now listening intently, even Seth.
“I would suspect Baxter was a subject in the trial process, but there’s really not any sort of complete formula as far as something that can be repeated,” Dr. Paul answers. “As far as the human components, they’re all parts of human DNA, and what’s needed to manipulate it.”
The room falls into an awkward silence, and I can tell my friends are trying hard not to look at me. The officers, on the other hand, do not attempt to hide their judgment. I half expect one of them to draw their weapon at any moment now. In fact, the general nearest me, Costas, has his hand hovering over the holster at his hip. Without realizing it, I slightly alter my stance and crouch ever so lightly. Nostrils flaring, my pupils dilate as extra adrenalin is released into my bloodstream in response to my fight-or-flight trigger. Instincts take over, and I can suddenly hear and smell everything, including the man’s heartbeat. I have him caught in my gaze like a rabbit to a hawk.
“Stand down, Major!” Zane’s voice sounds far away as I’m focused solely on the respiratory rate of my sudden adversary. “I said stand down!” I hear him more clearly this time, and apparently, so does Major General Costas. His breathing slows slightly, and he blinks rapidly, forcing himself to focus on his commander instead of me. Finally, he follows the order, and carefully rests both of his hands behind his back, away from the weapon.
“I think it’d be best to adjourn this meeting for now,” Zane states with authority, still watching his men closely. “I’ll have this put through cryptanalysis and see if they can come up with anything.”
“Crypta what?” Kyle asks.
“It just means they’re looking for a hidden message,” Benuk explains. “If the professor was really trying to communicate with you through this, Alex, it would likely be encrypted or hidden. He knew the senator would be able to crack it. Another reason he’d have had to send you to him.”
“We have to go now, anyway,” the doctor says, looking at his useless wristwatch. He told us before that he kept wearing it even after it was destroyed by the EMP as a way to remind himself of the moment when everything was so easily wiped out. That time isn’t so much about the minutes anymore, but the days and what we make of them. I’ve come to
like the awkward, somewhat clumsy man. He surprises me with his insights.
“Yes, we have a surgery prepping,” Mom confirms as she and Lisa rise. “Acute appendicitis. Something that used to be routine can now easily kill you.”
Cindy walks in as Mom and Lisa leave and they speak briefly at the door for a minute, looking over at me periodically. They have to know by now that I can hear the whispered conversation. Aside from explaining the new drama surrounding me, Cindy told them she was held up because of a small singing performance her third-grade class put on for their parents. In light of the topic and potentially violent confrontation we just dealt with, it seems so surreal. Kids singing happy songs to a room full of parents?
Shaking my head, I look down at my clasped hands. Zane is probably wondering what I’m smiling at. I’m just always surprised by human nature’s need to desperately cling to normalcy. Like if we pretend there aren’t mutated friends and families hunting us out beyond the base’s borders, or an alien dictator waiting for us to bow down to him hovering above the earth, it will all be okay. But it won’t. If we don’t find a way to stop them, there will never be little kids singing songs again, or parents looking at them lovingly.
I swallow at the sudden lump forming in my throat and look up to find everyone else has already left the room, except for Chris. He’s watching me in such a way that I know he’s feeling the upwelling of strong emotions in me.
“You want to run,” he says with conviction. “To run away from here and never stop.”
His words surprise me. Is that what I was really thinking? “No,” I correct. “Not away from here, but away from this reality, Chris. It’s insane. Now they’re going to be studying me as if I’m some sort of missing link. I don’t know what more I can do. I don’t know what else the professor thought I could do. I just feel this overwhelming pressure of expectations that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live up to. I’m going to let those kids down.”
“Kids?” he asks me, coming closer.
I shake my head, clearing the image of the children walking lifelessly with glowing eyes through the cornfields. Thank you, Seth, for that visual. “Never mind,” I tell him. “It’s been a long day and I think I’m getting tired.”
“Everyone else is headed to the mess hall for dinner,” he tells me, taking me by the waist and directing me toward the door. “I think we should join them.”
Dinner? I don’t think I can eat right now, but at the same time, I clearly understand that to keep up my friends’ spirits I have to continue with the charade of normalcy and routine. Whether I like it or not, they are looking to me for direction. Taking a deep breath, I straighten up and walk with him out into the dark hallway with more purpose. I can’t afford the luxury of escape.
“We have to figure this out, Chris. I need to understand what the professor did to me and why, before I completely lose my mind and take you with me.”
SIXTEEN
“Alex, I’m kind of thirsty. Why don’t you think about a nice tall pitcher of water so your boyfriend will go get us one?” My initial reaction is to throttle Seth, but I quickly smother the thought as I see Chris flexing his hands as if he’s strangling him.
“I don’t think your humor is appropriate, Seth,” Benuk chastises.
“There isn’t anything about Seth that’s appropriate,” Missy counters, stabbing a fork at her MRE. The military rations aren’t all that terrible when you’re hungry, but it’s still hard to tell what some of it is.
“Don’t you think we ought to talk about it?” Seth replies evenly. “Because I’d say that it’s a huge elephant in the room, and it’s not gonna go away by ignoring it.”
“What do you want me to say?” I explode, pushing my untouched plate away. “I don’t know how I’m doing it and it doesn’t make any sense. I don’t want the Shiners in my head, Seth, and I sure as heck don’t want to influence anything Chris does.”
“There’s apparently a connection with the Nephi2 virus and your…ability,” Benuk reasons. “Perhaps, since Chris’s illness progressed so far, whatever it is in the Shiners that you pick up on was also triggered in Chris.”
“That makes sense,” Nate agrees. “Especially if what the doc says is right, and it attacks our brain in layers.”
“But why?” Kyle asks the biggest question. “If the professor did this to Alex on purpose, what’s the point?”
“Are you really that dense?” Seth retorts, slapping his hands down on the table. “She can control them, you idiot. That makes her a bigger weapon than anything the senator has in his arsenal.”
As much as I despise him, I have to admit there’s something about Seth’s candid personality that I appreciate. Instead of an angry rebuttal to the insult, Kyle blinks a few times as the truth of the statement sinks in. We all sit in stunned silence, no one wanting to be the first to acknowledge he’s right.
“Well, that’s stupid,” Jake says, breaking through the tension. “What are you supposed to make them do, Alex? I mean, yeah, stop ‘em from killing us or whatever, but then what? And you said you have to be really close to them, and it only worked for a while. I don’t get it.” Stuffing a big bite of over-processed meat into his mouth, my little brother regards me with his big brown eyes.
“I don’t know, Jake. Maybe the Genesis file will help us figure that-” Before I can finish, one of Zane’s men double-times it into the mess hall and rushes up to our table. It’s barely been two hours since we saw Zane last, and I didn’t expect to hear anything this soon.
“Senator Adel requires your presence ASAP,” he states, addressing us all.
****
The senator, his entourage, Jim, Paul, and another man I don’t recognize in a lab jacket, are waiting for us. I’m not sure how I feel about this room anymore: safe or out-of-control. The rich, warm woods are soothing, but the topics we’ve discussed so far inside these walls are unsettling, to say the least. And I don’t like the way they’re all looking at me.
“Where’s my mom?” I ask as we all find a seat. I note that Chris has again chosen one farthest away from me. Yup, this’ll be a hard one to cope with.
Missy squeezes my hand as she sits down next to me, likely the only one to realize how the seating arrangement would bother me. It’s already after eight at night so her mom had to go put Natalie to bed. I guess if Mom and Lisa can’t be here either, we can just talk to them all together later.
“Post-op stuff,” Dr. Paul says briskly. “Couldn’t be avoided. But the surgery went well.”
I turn to Senator Zane on my left, lifting my eyebrows questioningly at him. “That was fast. And who’s your friend?”
“Once we figured out what was really in here,” he says, tapping the Genesis file on the table, “it didn’t take long. And this,” he continues, pointing out the man I referenced, who is standing nervously by the whiteboard, “is Professor Tucker. He’s the closest thing the base has to a geneticist.”
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” I’m somewhat surprised by the familiar tone Tucker addresses the senator with, destroying my first impression of him. Now that I look more closely at his precisely cropped, greying hair, and clear, intelligent blue eyes, I can tell he’s someone you turn to for answers. Maybe his anxiety has more to do with the subject matter, rather than his abilities.
“Jim first took the file to our code specialist,” Zane states, jumping right into it.
“It was actually very simple,” Jim explains. “I likely could have figured it out myself. He used the oldest type of steganography or the method of hiding words in plain sight. Without boring you all with the details, there were two code sources. First, we deciphered a chain of words that obviously referred to some sort of gene sequencing. The second was found under infrared. Throughout the text were spots of thickened bands. When extracted and reconstructed, they formed an image.”
Opening his own file, Jim pulls out several sheets of paper and passes them around. I take one and then stare blankly
at a string of dashes. It means absolutely nothing to me.
“Is this genetic code?” Benuk asks, after getting his sheet.
“Yes,” Professor Tucker answers, stepping forward. Well, that would explain why Zane got a geneticist involved. “But it isn’t what you’d call a normal strand of DNA”
I don’t like the sound of that. Dr. Paul is staring intently at me, and I can actually feel the weight of his scrutiny. “What?” I finally demand, turning to him, my voice louder than I intended.
“You asked me before about what we found in your blood,” he responds, unruffled by my outburst. “It was deemed inconclusive because your DNA was … something we have never seen before. There was much debate over it and we finally just gave up and figured your infection had changed the proteins so much that we weren’t able to accurately map it. We were right, to a point.” Turning in his seat, Dr. Paul looks to Professor Tucker, effectively handing over the reins.
“I’ve been told you all have a basic understanding of how a virus works,” Prof. Tucker says. When none of us contradict this claim, Tucker continues. “So you know it’s simply a vector or a method to deliver its ‘package’ of genetic information to the host cell. We have found a way of using certain types of viruses for gene therapy. We take the virus’s own DNA out and replace it with whatever it is we want to deliver to the host to repair their damaged segments of DNA. We are still in the early stages of this technique, but have found some success in treating genetic illness such as leukemia and Parkinson’s.”
“So doesn’t the coating on the virus basically disguise it from the host’s immune system?” Chris asks. “That’s how it’s able to get to the cells it needs to hijack?” His knowledge of the subject is obviously greater than the average person.