Lanie walked around for a bit after the appointment. There was no one close she could talk to about it all—her mom had gone home and her girlfriends had dwindled away since they’d had the boys. The ladies she knew were more acquaintances, moms of the kids’ school friends. They’d sent flowers after the crash, but no one had phoned or dropped by to see her. Thomas wasn’t one for casual friendships or catch-ups.Well, not since he got promoted, not for at least a couple of years. His company had always really been enough for her anyway, him and the boys.
Getting into the car and paying no attention to where she was headed, Lanie soon found herself near the turnoff for the loop road. Playing a hunch, she swung a sharp U-turn and headed toward the institute. At the front desk, she asked the librarian if she could get a printout of any papers published by her husband. Finding nothing of interest, she asked the same question about Leila. Thomas mentioned she was going to night classes a while back; maybe he’s been helping her with some work? “Cell Regeneration and Longevity.” A paper published by Thomas’s assistant a couple years ago. The work was solid; from what she could gather the cells responsible for aging had been discovered and could be tinkered with. They’d found ways to manipulate diseased cells that would not only extend life but improve the quality of life. Further research was encouraged.
Blah, blah, blah.
* * *
Filing the details away in her bag, Lanie had given up and returned home late to make dinner, finding her boys happily munching bowls of cereal.
“Lanie, where have you been? The kids and I are starving and I couldn’t even reach you on your phone.”
So a three-year-old and a twelve-year-old can work out how to stop their tummies from rumbling, but the grown man would prefer a big cup of pissed-off. Figures.
Ignoring Thomas, Lanie smiled at her boys. “How was your day, Jake? Anything exciting happen?” As Jake ran off to get his science project, she spoke to Sam. “How about you, Sam?”
He came over and cuddled his mom. “Ryan was nasty to me. He said I stole his buggy book, but I didn’t. I didn’t.”
“I know, baby, I know you wouldn’t do that.”
Ah, when life was simple. When your mortal enemy was a bum-bum head, and all was magically forgotten the following day.
Chapter Eight
Lanie spent the next morning traveling out to the institute, hoping to find some reason her husband might have been meeting his assistant out there if there was nothing going on. Parking in the visitors’ parking lot again, she walked up past the biology labs and through the library. Ready to come up with a plan. Lanie had just taken a seat at the bank of laptops when something heavy hit the window.
Bang.
Oh my God.
She’d seen Thomas and the pretty redhead get into his car at the hospital; she had been bringing Sam and a picnic lunch, hoping to surprise him.
Looks like the surprise is on me.
They’d been walking close to one another and there had been a look of… passion on Thomas’s face that Lanie hadn’t seen in a while. It had been months since he’d started to withdraw from her. It’s not you, Lanie, it’s my work. It’s so much more demanding than when I was just another doctor. On a hunch she’d jumped straight back into her car and followed them out on the old loop road, out to the institute.
She parked the car and waited for him and his pretty assistant to get well ahead of them before pulling Sammy from his seat. She walked around to the front of the library and handed Sam a pack of animal crackers before taking a seat in the bushes. “C’mon Sammy, let’s play hide-and-seek with the students, see if anyone notices us.” She was quickly rewarded for playing her hunch: Thomas and Leila were behind the window just to her left. Leila had looked up at him then, admiration all over her pretty face. They were just talking, but they were standing so close to one another.
Too close.
Leila reached down, lower than Lanie could see through the window, picked something up, and handed it to Thomas. Scooting in closer, Lanie gasped when she saw what it was. The kids had given him that laptop bag for Christmas. He only used it for his personal stuff, because he didn’t want it to get worn out or scuffed up at work. We spent half a day choosing it. And now she’s just got her hands all over it. Left it over, did you sweetheart? Forgot to grab it after you two were done?
She grabbed Sam then and ran away before he could see his father and give them away. She buckled him in and sped off.
Hoooonnnkkkkk.
Oh shit, I’m on the wrong side of the road.
Too late.
* * *
The back of Lanie’s head connected with her chair. “Shhhhh,” said the student to her left. Oh, fuck off. She stumbled to her feet and ran out to her car.Won’t make the same mistake twice. Pulling out onto the road with studied care, she put distance between herself and what she’d remembered.
Running into the house, Lanie headed straight for Thomas’s home office, looking for proof to throw at him. The offending laptop bag was sitting in the corner, practically waving at her. Smug son of a—! It’s just a bag, Lanie, get a grip. Ripping it open, she started searching for something, anything, incriminating. Receipts would be a start, but she’d accept anything that gave him away, no matter how weak. Her fingers scraped the edge of a hospital folder.
Why is he so interested in longevity studies and the environmental impact of people living longer? Even if he and Leila are… No, focus, Lanie.
Turning back to the papers in her hand, she flicked her gaze over the dense text, studied the many comments in the margins.
It seemed the consensus was that the planet would be annihilated by its own inhabitants within the first two hundred years of humans living an extended existence. “Forget survival of the fittest, it would be survival of the most brutal and short-sighted: most won’t even care who could make the world habitable for longer, simply who they could take for their daily bread.” Geez, gloomy world outlook alert, Lanie thought to herself, certain the inked comment wasn’t Thomas’s messy scribble.
Brrriiinnngggggg
The papers flew from Lanie’s hands.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Karvan? It’s Frannie from the elementary school. You’ve forgotten to sign Sam’s swimming form and he doesn’t have his trunks or towel.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry…”
“That’s okay, you’re not the only one. Can you get them down in the next half an hour?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Lanie pushed the papers back into the bag and returned it to its place.
I’ll be back for you soon. I want to know why you’re so interesting to my husband.
Chapter Nine
On her way home from the school, Lanie received another call.
“Lanie, we’ve got your test results back. I need to see you urgently. Any chance you can get in now?”
Spinning the car around with a squeal of tires, Lanie made a highly questionable U-turn and sped toward her doctor’s office.
Lanie had barely taken a seat when the good doctor pulled a familiar-looking stack of articles from his desk and placed it in front of her.
“So you know.” The doctor’s voice was flat, grim.
Lanie sat frozen in her chair, her mouth open as wide as her eyes.
The doctor tapped on his pager and walked over to the locked cabinet to pulled out a hypodermic. As Lanie got to her feet, a nurse walked in. Jesus, she’s a tank.
“I’ve got her, Dr. Lane.”
Chapter Ten
Click-clack, click-clack
Lanie sat up slowly. Where am I? The room was a far cry from the clinical doctor’s office she had come from. The carpet was thick and plush, an undersized but elegant fireplace graced one wall, and an ornate mirror made the smallish space seem far bigger than it was. The couch she had woken on was of the overstuffed and insanely comfortable variety. It took her a moment to notice the woman sitting across from her. Leila finished the
end of her line before placing her needles neatly in her lap and smiling at Lanie.
“You’ll need a drink. The drugs will do that to you.”
As Lanie sipped from her paper cup, Leila began reciting her opening spiel.
“You will be given time to make up your mind, but understand this: we do not allow mistakes. No slips.” Satisfied she’d made her point, Leila sat down to face her unwilling student. “You can start a new life out on the colony. Or you can decide that your life, your family, is too much to give up, too hard to live without.”
“But I have no—”
“Idea what’s going on? You know a lot more than you think. It’s just a matter of time before it falls into place for you. You just wouldn’t leave well enough alone, would you? But please, allow me to fill in the blanks.”
Handing her a single sheet of paper, Leila walked back to her chair by the fireplace and sat, peering at Lanie as she slowly read, jaw firmly dropping as she got to the last line.
Oh God, the cell research, the overpopulation risks. The food sources for a harsh environment. It all fell into place.
“So what happens now?”
“You’ll have to stay here for a few months—there’s a lot to learn about life on our sister planet, and you’ll need to be fully briefed.” Walking toward the windows, looking out over the lush vista before her, Leila smiled. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Lanie, and I do get what you’re giving up—I really do. But you’re here now, and while it’s not ideal, you could choose to make the most of it. What we’ve done and what we’re doing is amazing. We’re pioneers, Lanie. Surely that’s worth some sacrifices?”
“Some sacrifices, Leila? Some?” Lanie walked up to the younger woman and pushed her face closer until they were standing nose to nose. “My children are everything to me. You expect me to just put them aside and jump on your happy little scientific freak show like they don’t mean anything to me? What are you all sacrificing? Huh?”
“Be smart, Lanie. You know we can’t let you go—you won’t be able to help yourself. Maybe not this year, or the next, but eventually you’ll spill. Like I said, it’s not the best scenario, but it is what it is. Make the most of it.”
Lanie snorted. “You know, it’s ironic that you’re sending me away because I might spill your secrets. You’re all clearly doing such a bang-up job of keeping this quiet.”
Leila turned and walked to the door. “Look Lanie, I know it won’t be easy. I understand more than you think. But there are others like you that didn’t walk into it willingly, and they’ve become very happy and successful.”
“Yippee for them.”
The door closed quietly behind Leila as Lanie began to re-read the manuscript for her new life.
Behind the two-way glass, Thomas watched his wife’s shoulders shake. Why did you have to keep searching, Lanie? I tried to tell you to leave it all alone, tried to hide it all from you. We would have been in this together eventually; I would have found a way. But they’ll never let you go now. Please, just show them you can put the project before anything else. Then we can… Hearing footsteps approaching the door, Thomas picked up his folders to leave.
Chapter Eleven
Hours later, Leila walked back into the room, taking note of the paper clenched in Lanie’s hand. “Do you want to ask me anything?”
A sharp bark of laughter, and Lanie uncurled her lip enough to ask her only question. “What’s it going to take for me to go home and forget this ever happened?”
For a brief second, Leila looked sympathetic, sad even. “I’m sorry, Lanie. That just isn’t going to happen.”
Lanie rolled toward the wall, blocking Leila and her voice as best she could. A full four seconds before she rolled back to face her tormentor, voice raised.
“I don’t care about any of this.”
Leila’s tone, usually so calm, now raised to match Lanie’s frustration. Her eyes were lit with a strange devotion. Like a priest delivering a sermon about salvation.
“How can you not understand it, Lanie? If this gets out, and if people knew what we can already do they’d want it—demand it. They don’t care that our planet isn’t equipped to handle the impact, or that our sister planet could be decades, maybe more, away from being perfected.” Leila’s breathing was heavy, her voice high. “It’s bigger than you and your needs. It has to be managed. It’s for the greater—”
“Good, yes, you’ve mentioned that.” Lanie folded under the realization this was a done deal. She was in or she was out. No grey areas here.
She walked to the door, crossed her arms across her chest, and nodded for Leila to leave. Almost before Leila had fully passed the threshold, Lanie slammed and locked the door as if it could keep these monsters out of her space.
So, Lanie, how much of a life do you want to have, now that you’ve lost everything?
A low keening sound came out of her then. Slowly, lowly at first, steadily rising in pitch until she was completely unhinged; desperate and angry. She saw her little men, saw herself smelling their hair, picking out their clothes warm and fragrant from the dryer, chasing their nude bodies fresh from a bath, all three of them thundering down the hall. No nacki nack boys, my boys wear pajamas. Lanie clawed at herself, ripped at her skin and hair, and rolled from side to side.
Chapter Twelve
Leila hadn’t returned, although regular meals were left at Lanie’s door like clockwork. She’d discovered that the couch was adequate for sleeping on, and made good use of the small bathroom. But there was nothing to do, and no further contact. Apparently the next move was hers.
Of course Lanie had noticed the red button by her door. Obviously they’re used to giving people their space until they’re ready to decide. Well, enough waiting; she was ready. Pressing the button, Lanie sat back in her chair and awaited what she could only assume would be the return of her captor’s messenger. Sure enough, Leila and her perky step soon walked into the apartment, breezy with a smile arguably bolder than it should be.
“Two days. The profiler was dead on.” Leila lifted an eyebrow.
“And what did they say about my decision? To leave my kids, put this new world ahead of all else? Where did they decide I’d land on that?”
Walking back to the door, Leila held it open and beckoned Lanie through. Two heavyset men stood nearby, almost hiding the smaller form of Dr. Lane and his ever-present medical bag. A queasy feeling hit Lanie in the gut. She started to sob and tried to run. I’m sorry boys, so very sorry.
Epilogue
LOCAL CHIEF OF NEUROSURGERY LOSES WIFE WEEKS AFTER VEHICULAR ACCIDENT
Lanie Karvan, wife of the esteemed Dr. Karvan, Chief of Neurosurgery at the Royal General Hospital, was found dead in their home, just weeks after being injured in a vehicular accident on the old loop road by the school. The cause of death has been officially recorded as a brain hemorrhage, believed to be linked to the head injuries sustained in the accident. Mrs. Karvan is survived by her husband and two children.
Adding the clipping to his folder, Thomas looked up as Leila entered the room and flung two laminated ID badges on his desk. His words came out flat and quietly. “We could have told her, you know. She would have chosen differently.”
Thomas’s father picked up the badges and smiled at the pictures of his grandsons. His reply was both mild and matter-of-fact. “She didn’t pass the test.”
A Word From Mel Hearse
I’ve been a book nerd from the moment I first learned to read. Some of my earliest memories involve begging my mother to take me back to the library for the third or even fourth time in a week. I love disappearing into another world for a few hours, and I read prolifically—at least four novels a week, having been blessed with the ability to speed-read—though it can be a curse for my bank balance, and one of the many reasons I took on professional book reviewing. I prefer a good blockbuster-style novel over literary fiction any day, with very few exceptions, and I’ve always admired Jackie Collins for her stance tha
t while her writing could never be considered a work of art, she puts bums on seats and entertains. This has always been my goal as a writer as well.
I grew up to work in the government sector, but when my eldest son was born I was inspired to pick up a pen and follow my dreams of becoming a writer. Being as obsessed with magazines, newspapers and websites as I am books (I’d read a cereal box if it were all that was available), I started my writing career as a freelance journalist. Within a year of starting I had my work published in a number of high-profile Australian magazines, and since then I’ve had hundreds of articles published across the globe.
My first foray into sharing my fiction actually took place in high school, when I was sufficiently proud of a dark piece I’d written to share it with my English teacher. I must have got the desperation of the main character and the dark and gloomy mood across because next thing I knew I was sitting in the headmaster’s office with my parents and my English teacher—who had believed my story to be a cry for help. After that, I kept future tales within the safety of my many notebooks.
Having recently spent a lot of time sharing a writing space with Perth-based indie writer Susan May, I decided it was time to once again seek an audience for my darker works. “The Greater Good” is my first published short story, and I’m already working on the next part in the tale, due out in March 2014.
You can find out more about me and keep up to date with my future works at www.melhearse.com.
Perspective is a funny thing. Sometimes we get the feeling we’ve finally got a handle on things. We’ve seen the world through a particular lens awhile and, even if that lens is a relatively new one for us, we start to thinking maybe we’ve got it all figured out.
From the Indie Side Page 23