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Deceived

Page 13

by Heather Sunseri


  I had wondered the same thing. We’d had an entire course at Wellington about the advances of artificial intelligence. We even got to see a very human robot while touring an exhibit at the University of Kentucky.

  “Because I am a machine,” Minerva answered, and it surprised me to hear emotion behind her answer. “While other scientists in the world are creating human-like machines, Dr. Howard finds the technology creepy.”

  I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my lips.

  “You find that funny, Miss Howard,” Minerva said. A statement, not a question.

  I was starting to find her a little creepy. I started walking again.

  “On your left,” Minerva continued, “scientists are working on devices to help children with learning disabilities.”

  “What kind of devices?” I asked.

  Jonas and I moved closer to the glass. Two scientists—one male and one female—wore some sort of appliance on their head that held what looked like the lenses of microscopes over both eyes. They were holding tweezer-like tools in both hands. The woman looked from her work in front of her to a computer screen to the right. With every adjustment, she glanced at the screen.

  “Dr. Beth Anthes, the woman on the right, is creating a revolutionary apparatus that can be inserted into the eye of a child with dyslexia. The disc, less than a quarter inch in diameter, contains a powerful microprocessor and terabytes of data. It’s coated in silicone and is just a fraction of the thickness of a contact lens.”

  “How does it work?” I asked.

  “The device has a series of embedded fiber optic filaments. After it’s been placed onto the sclera, or white of the eye, and activated, the filaments are released. The fiber optics anchor the device to the eye and also tap into the optic nerve, which allows data to be sent directly to the brain, enabling the child to see and understand words on a page differently. This incredible appliance will help the child to read more efficiently and with better retention. And within a day or two, the patient can’t even feel the device. In fact, subjects can even wear regular contact lenses over it.” Minerva pointed to Dr. Anthes’s male counterpart. “Dr. Jay Gottlieb is working on a similar device that will help someone remember everything he or she witnesses or reads.”

  “It would give them a photographic memory,” Jonas said softly.

  “Precisely,” Minerva said and continued on down the hallway.

  “Does it stay implanted forever?” I asked.

  “We’re confident that over time the subject’s brain will absorb the knowledge as its own. Once the subject fully integrates the data, the device can be easily removed.”

  She led us down another dozen hallways, all similar. There were scientists hard at work in every lab, and according to Minerva, every scientist was charged with solving an important medical or social problem in the world today. So far my dad was starting to look like a saint.

  “Minerva,” I asked, “does my dad have a lab for studying… let’s say… highly contagious viruses?”

  “Yes, Miss Howard. Building B—behind the main building we’re currently in—is a biosafety level 4 laboratory. But only those with top level security clearance may enter that facility.” She continued her glide away from us. “For safety reasons only, of course,” she said. I got the feeling that this robot was intelligent enough to sense when I needed more information. “Let’s keep going. Your father has requested that you join him for lunch.”

  Jonas turned to me and raised his brows. Something wrong? he mindspoke. He’d said very little, other than the occasional question to Minerva, during the entire tour.

  Just trying to find the most secure area of BioTech. I jogged to catch up to Minerva. “Minerva, where are the human clones that Howard BioTech is studying?”

  “Howard BioTech does not clone humans. That would be unethical.”

  “Minerva, have you ever met Boone Howard?”

  “Yes. He’s such a fine boy.”

  chapter eighteen

  Jonas

  “Do you think it was smart to turn down a security detail?” I lay across the bed in Bree’s childhood room. Her father had insisted we stay in the fortress he called home, where we could hide from police. He’d yet to fully understand that we had our own ways to stay hidden.

  Bree was looking through her closet. Apparently her mother had purchased her a new wardrobe for the summer, knowing her father was expecting her to work for his company. She stepped out holding a modest navy dress that didn’t excite me at all. “Would you feel better if you had a bodyguard? I’m happy to tell Dad to send one over for you.”

  “For me? No, I was thinking…” Then I understood. “You’re joking.”

  She smiled. When I didn’t return the smile, she hung the garment back in the closet and crossed the room. She had refused to have a straightforward conversation with me since we’d left BioTech. Had barely looked me in the eyes.

  When she wandered close enough, I reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bed, forcing her to sit. I propped my head up on a bent elbow. “Talk to me,” I said. “You’re still mad at me.” I didn’t want to remind her why, just in case she had already forgotten some of the reasons she had to be angry.

  She took in a breath. Let it out. She seemed to study my hair, the stubble on my cheeks, my chin. She avoided my eyes. I had hurt her when we were on Palmyra, and then I’d totally pissed her off inside the hotel room with the whole bath towel incident. She was scared to open up. But she needed to if I was going to be able to help her.

  “I am sorry,” I said finally.

  “Oh yeah?” She did look at me then. “What exactly are you sorry for?”

  It was my turn to sigh heavily. “For lots of things. But mostly for making you feel you can’t trust me. You need to talk to me, Red.”

  “Fine. But for the record, you suck at apologies.” She twisted her hands in her lap. When she was ready, she turned more toward me, bending her knee in front of her on the bed. “I think the clones are in that Building B that Minerva talked about.”

  “You think your father is hiding them because he knows you wouldn’t approve?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I suppose anything could be going on in there, really. All the labs are heavily secured, and he definitely doesn’t want his discoveries leaked, but… something just doesn’t add up. I just… Would he really experiment on human clones?”

  “What do you mean? Look at the rest of our parents. It’s not unheard of that any one of them would take the whole cloning business too far. Even Lexi’s mother has done some questionable things. If you don’t believe me, take a look at the tracker at the base of my skull.”

  “True. But…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. She started to get up, to shut me out again.

  I reached out and grabbed her arm. Forced her to look at me. “I’m sorry, Red. But we’ve all had to face that our parents aren’t who we thought they were. You’re no different.”

  She jerked her arm away. “Don’t you think I know that? I don’t need you telling me things I already know.”

  “Why are you yelling? I’m only here to help.”

  “Are you? Because it feels to me you’re on a mission to find my dad guilty of… of something.”

  I couldn’t help but think, If the shoe fits. I swallowed that thought. “Can you just admit that you need me here?”

  She stood. “I don’t need—”

  “Stop.” I swung my feet around, rose from the bed, and stepped in front of her. Slid my hand to the back of her neck. “Just stop. Stop shutting me out.”

  She tried to look away, but I held on to her neck and kept her head pointed at mine. After a couple of blinks, she focused on me. “What do you want from me?” she asked, exasperated.

  I let her go and sat on the edge of the bed again. “Can we just call a truce and admit that there’s something fishy going on at your father’s labs and that you and I should work together to figure it out?”

 
; “Fine. Of course.” She jutted out a hip and crossed her arms.

  “Can we also admit that there’s something going on between us?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “I know no such thing.” There wasn’t an insecure bone in her body. I had rejected her on the island, and now she would work hard to make sure I knew that she didn’t give a rat’s ass that I had.

  I let a grin lift my face as I came up with a brilliant plan. “How about we make a game of this?” She liked games. We’d played lots of relationship games last year. Before things took a more serious turn.

  “A game? Out of which part? You want to make a game out of searching for some lost cloned kids? Or, dear Jonas, do you want to make a game out of proving I didn’t murder Vance? Winner doesn’t go to jail for life or get sentenced to death by lethal injection.”

  “Okay, maybe ‘game’ wasn’t the right word. Why don’t we do some pretending?”

  “Pretending,” she deadpanned.

  “Yes. We’re in this together. We have work to do. How about you and I pretend that we’re a couple? Have a little fun, for old times’ sake.”

  By the terrified look in her eyes, I realized that this was the most brilliant plan I’d ever devised.

  “Why would we do that?” She uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides.

  “Because you’re completely stressed out. I can sense the tension in your head without even reading your mind. It’s radiating off of you.”

  “And what makes you think pretending to be a couple will help?”

  “Come here,” I told her.

  She hesitated. But then she took a step forward so she was right in front of me. I hooked my fingers through the belt loops of her jeans, urging her even closer. “We’ll show your father a united front, which we are. I’m here to stay until you’re cleared of the investigation. And until we figure out what happened to the kidnapped clones from Palmyra.”

  The slight quirk of Bree’s eyebrow told me she was at least considering the proposition.

  “We also tell your father that you and I are a package deal. You and I both know that we’re in danger. We can better protect each other when we stay close. I hate to think what would happen if you hadn’t gotten inside my room when that rogue clone nearly choked me to death last night.” I touched my neck, remembering. “That was a strong little bastard.”

  She nodded at that.

  “Raven and Kyle had to return to Kentucky,” I continued. “And I don’t like how vulnerable we are now that Lexi and Jack are headed to Palmyra.”

  She still looked unconvinced.

  “Look, I’m not trying to pressure you into any kind of relationship you don’t want with me…”

  Her eyes narrowed into a look I couldn’t quite interpret.

  “… But I don’t want to lose you as a friend. And since you left Palmyra, you’ve shut me out. You’ve been quiet, which is unlike you.”

  “So, this pretending… What does it entail?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me in a much more Bree-like playfulness, and I couldn’t stop from returning her grin.

  “Come here, and I’ll show you.”

  I held out a hand. When she slid her fingers into mine, I gave her a yank, and quick as a flash, I had her on her back against the soft mattress. I knelt over her, pinning her arms to her sides with my knees. I raised my fingers for only an instant before I tickled her sides.

  She squirmed and yelled and laughed. “Jonas, stop! Don’t tickle me!” She laughed harder than I’d heard her laugh in months. “Okay, okay,” she breathed. “I give. I’ll be your pretend girlfriend.”

  I released her and lay beside her. It was good to see her smile again. I hated that I had been to blame for that distant look in her eye. Somehow I’d make it up to her. I knew one thing for sure, I didn’t want to lose Bree. Even if we weren’t right for each other as a couple.

  She rolled toward me. “Since we’re pretending we’re a couple, how about I take you on a pretend date?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  She only grinned in answer.

  chapter nineteen

  Briana

  In addition to insisting we stay at my childhood home, my dad also assigned us a driver. It was his way of keeping tabs on us, which was fine for now. I wanted him to trust Jonas and me.

  After a beautiful hour-long drive up the Columbia River Gorge, the driver pulled up to Windy Water Sports in Hood River, Oregon. Jonas was holding my hand, taking his childish pretend game seriously.

  What does he take me for? I wondered. Our relationship really was a game to him. I had no idea what he hoped to accomplish by pretending to be my boyfriend, but I knew one thing: I’d take full advantage of it. I’d show him what it was like to date me. The real me. None of this pretending bullshit. Because it was real to me.

  “You’re taking me jet skiing?” Jonas asked, excited. He got out of the car quickly.

  I had told him to wear swim trunks, and I’d managed to find us both some wetsuits packed away in the house.

  “No,” I answered, then after instructing the driver to stay close, I joined Jonas outside the car. “We’re going windsurfing.”

  “I don’t know how to windsurf.”

  “You’ll learn.” I walked toward the Windy Water Sports office, leaving Jonas with his mouth hanging open. He was reluctant to engage in any activity he hadn’t already mastered. It went against his sense of machismo.

  “I don’t want to learn something new,” he said, trailing behind me. “Can’t we rent some Wave Runners?” He caught up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, stopping my forward motion. He had slipped into pretending very easily. Almost too easily.

  “No.” I turned in his arms and faced him, holding a bag of supplies at my side and letting my arms stay perfectly still.

  His eyes searched mine, and I knew he was trying to analyze my thoughts. “Sometimes, it takes everything in me not to slip inside that head of yours and see exactly what you’re up to.”

  “I know,” I said simply. “But doesn’t a little part of you like the mystery? Since we’re pretending to like each other and everything, aren’t you even a little more intrigued when you can’t read my thoughts?”

  He furrowed his brow and lessened his hold, letting me turn and continue on to the office.

  Inside was a long-haired guy talking with a couple of kids. He looked up at me, and recognition flitted across his face. He finished with the two kids then crossed the room. “Whoa, it’s Briana Howard! It’s been way too long, amigo. What in the world are you doing here?” He scooped me up in his arms and twirled me around.

  “Hey, Coyote,” I said when he had set me down. “I’m here to do a little windsurfing with my friend.”

  “Like, seriously?” He looked over my shoulder at Jonas. Then he leaned in and whispered, “What foul play have you conjured up, Bree? The cops came by.” He grabbed me by the elbow and led me outside.

  Jonas tensed and stayed close.

  “What did they want?” I asked, though I had known the police would make their way here. Coyote was Vance’s best friend, or at least they had been best friends until last summer. They were both thrill seekers, had been since high school, always going on crazy adventures together. But whereas Vance was into extreme sports as a release from the stress of corporate life, Coyote never bothered with stress at all—he lived season to season, alternating between stints as a snowboard instructor, mountain biking guide, windsurfing shop operator, and surf bum.

  “Wanted to know if I knew you,” he said. “If I’d seen you around. If you were involved in an intimate relationship with Vance. That sort of shit.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “Told ’em I hadn’t seen you, and that there was no way in hell you’d hurt anyone, even Vance Carrington.” He stared at me. “What went down? They said you were with him the night before and again the next morning when he got smoked. I thought you bailed on him after last summer. Don’t tell me you hooked
up with him. ”

  Jonas stepped closer, perhaps sensing hostility in Coyote’s question.

  “What? No! I ran into him on purpose.” I shrugged. “I needed some information from him.”

  “You couldn’t get this… information… anywhere else? I mean, after what he did to you—”

  “Tried to do to me,” I corrected.

  “Whatever, Bree. The cops knew there was some bad juju between you two—and that I saw it go down.”

  “Shit,” I said softly.

  Jonas cleared his throat directly behind me. I darted to the side so that I could look at him.

  “I’m sorry. Coyote, this is my friend, Jonas. Jonas, Coyote.”

  Coyote? Seriously? I thought you were kidding.

  Don’t be an ass.

  “Right on, man. It’s a pleasure.” Coyote held out a hand, and Jonas shook it. “How do you know my girl, Briana?”

  Well wasn’t that a lovely, complicated question.

  His girl? Jonas mindspoke, but I could see that he was joking… mostly.

  I wanted to laugh at his jealousy. If I weren’t stressed by what Coyote had just blabbed in front of Jonas, I would have thought the question of how Jonas knew me was funny. I mean, did we tell Coyote that Jonas and I were human clones with special mental powers? That we met at a time when IIA agents were plotting how to terminate us? And that somehow we just grew close—close enough that we were now pretending to be girlfriend and boyfriend?

  “Jonas and I met at Wellington,” I said. It wasn’t a total lie.

  Can you read his mind and see if he’s telling the truth about what he told the police? I mindspoke to Jonas. I had to risk what Jonas might find inside Coyote’s mind. I didn’t exactly trust Coyote to tell me the truth.

  While Jonas searched Coyote’s mind, I drilled him on other matters. “Do you know what Vance was working on?”

  “Dude didn’t get much into specifics of his craft, you know?” He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “He said it was going to change the world, though. That he would take over Howard BioTech before he hit thirty.”

 

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