Project Pandora

by Aden Polydoros

  Silent as most thoughts were, his had a voice that rose in a shriek of rage and sounded a lot like his own.

  Nine, don’t you know I did it for you?

  The man’s groans were what shoved Hades back into reality, and reality fell in on him like soil into an open grave. The smells of cleaning solution and stale urine filled his nose once more, replacing the odor of burnt cloves.

  His fingers were sunk deep into doughy skin. He had the man pushed against the stall’s inner wall. From the blood staining the man’s collar, Hades realized that he must have slammed the man against the ceramic tiles. He couldn’t remember doing it.

  Nor could he recall ever beating the man, but when he took a better look, he saw that he must have done that as well. The man’s eyes were swollen shut, and his nose was crushed flat. Blood poured from his shattered mouth and both nostrils. His splotchy face was as blue as forget-me-not blossoms, partially because of oxygen deprivation but also because the capillaries under his skin had burst.

  With a low moan, Hades let go of the man and lurched back. The man slid to the ground, leaving a long, thin trail of blood oozing down the wall.

  Staring at the blood streak, he felt a deep chasm forming in his head, cleaving his brain in two like the split halves of a walnut. He pressed his hands against his face, gasping for breath.

  One side of his torn brain screamed at him to stop—enough killing, enough death! It had the voice of a terrified child.

  His other half calmly whispered for him to wrap his arms around the man’s throat and snap the spinal column or crush the windpipe beneath his steel-toed boot. It would be easy. He had done it before.

  They all deserved to die anyway. It would be so much better if he and Nine were the only ones left alive.

  “Nine,” he whispered. “Where are you, Nine? I need you.”

  No, that wasn’t right. Not Nine. Elizabeth. He needed Elizabeth.

  Who was Nine?

  Who was Elizabeth?

  This is happening to someone else, he thought, taking a deep breath. It’s all happening to someone else.

  That calmed him somewhat, and he felt the divide in his mind begin to mend again. Apathy washed over him like a comforting touch.

  His hands slid from his face and fell to his sides. He numbly regarded the unconscious man, then shut the stall door and left the bathroom.

  Swaddled in soothing indifference, Hades took off his gloves and shoved them into his pocket. As he stepped outside, a lovely blonde approached him. It took him a moment to remember who she was.

  “Here’s your change,” she said, giving him a handful of dollar bills and coins. It seemed like too much for the cost of the meal, but he didn’t count it.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth,” he murmured and took her delicate hand. He needed to hold her and feel her warmth.

  She could feel him, right? He was still alive, wasn’t he?

  He never wanted to let go of her.

  “I’m having fun,” Elizabeth said, leaning into him. Her flaxen hair fell in a glossy wave over her shoulder, and underneath the fragrance of forget-me-nots, he detected the faintest trace of her vanilla shampoo.

  Even the scents she favored evoked an image of purity. She was a representation of the future he had been deprived of.

  He needed to protect her. But he sensed that in the end, he would be the one to ruin her.

  Case Notes 10:

  Artemis

  At the Mexican restaurant across the street, Shannon and Tyler discussed the phone over tortilla chips as they waited for their entrees to arrive.

  Leaning back in his chair, Tyler was as graceful as any aristocrat at high tea. His legs were so long that, even though he was almost a foot taller than her, he was practically eye level with her when reclining.

  He set the flip phone next to the bowl of guacamole. “So, let me get this straight… You don’t know how this phone got into your purse, but you think you’ve seen it before?”

  “Right,” she said, staring at the newspaper decoupage glued to the table. She picked at the clear varnish with her nails. Just looking at the cell phone made her nervous, for a reason she couldn’t explain. Dread tugged at her brain. She wished Tyler would stop talking about the phone. She wanted nothing more than to crush the device underfoot or hurl it into the nearest trash can.

  As if sensing her worry, he reached across the table and laid his hand over hers. His thumb teased the Murano bracelet her foster dad had brought back as a souvenir from Venice, playing with the glass beads.

  “Could someone have accidentally put it in your purse at school, thinking your purse was theirs?” he asked, searching her eyes.

  Shannon gave it some thought, then shook her head. “No. I don’t leave my purse where people can take it. In gym, I put it in my locker, and it’s right next to me during class.”

  “Weird.” He took his hand off hers to spoon some guacamole onto his plate. His gaze was deep, direct. She could tell the entire situation intrigued him. “It’s too bad it’s dead. I’m curious to see what’s on it.”

  “Me, too,” Shannon said, though she actually felt relieved the cell phone wouldn’t turn on. Even more irrational was that a quiet voice inside her prayed that the phone was broken beyond repair.

  “I wonder if an iPhone charger will work on it,” Tyler said, dipping a tortilla chip in the guacamole. Even such mundane gestures were performed with a latent elegance, accentuated by the gentle movements of the muscles and fine bones in his hands.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. On Monday, I’ll drop it off at the school lost-and-found. Someone’s probably looking for it.” She picked up the cell phone. The cool plastic shell felt gross somehow, like it was crawling with bacteria. After returning it to her purse, she wiped her hand on her skirt.

  A crooked smile touched Tyler’s lips, and he leaned over the table, his amber eyes twinkling with amusement. His shirt sleeves rode up over his tanned biceps. “Oh, come on, you’re not the least bit curious?”

  “It just gives me a bad feeling,” she admitted.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “You know what? Let’s change the subject.” Shannon sighed. Then, at a sudden revelation, she felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh my God.”

  Tyler frowned. “What’s the matter?”

  “Something else just occurred to me,” she said quickly. “Remember that guy from the subway?”

  “Stalker boy?” he asked, the warmth leeching from his voice. His expression hardened over, and a serious furrow formed between his eyebrows.

  “Yeah. Now that I think about it, he had a phone just like this one. He was playing with it when I got on the train.”

  “You think this is his?”

  “It has to be,” Shannon said. “He must have accidentally dropped it into my purse. He was, um, kind of leaning over me when we were on the train, like he had no concept of personal space.”

  Tyler narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw. He looked like he wanted to hunt Hades down and throttle him. Shannon felt strangely flattered.

  “Anyway, at one point, we came to a fast stop,” she said. “It could have happened then.”

  Tyler sighed and glanced at the phone again. “Now I’m really curious to see what’s on it.”

  Shannon wished she could say the same. She sensed the device contained a terrifying secret, and that, like Pandora’s box, once opened there was no going back.

  Instead of dwelling on the subject further, she placed the flip phone in her purse. The moment she zipped up the pouch, a profound sense of relief descended over her. She could almost pretend that the phone didn’t exist in the first place. It was better than facing the truth that for the first time in weeks, her anxiety had come back with a vengeance.

  This wasn’t the first time a mundane, innocent object had induced debilitating fear in her. Kitchen knives, common house keys, dark closets, and even sewing needles were fodder for panic attacks during her worst moments. Even simpl
e odors, like the scent of hand sanitizer, and sounds as innocuous as the slosh of water could grate on her nerves.

  It was a good thing she had an appointment with her psychiatrist in a few days. Surely Dr. Kosta would be able to unravel whatever was bothering her. Once she talked it over with him, she was certain the root of her unease would be something far more logical than a stupid cell phone.

  Status Report: Subject 9 of Subset A

  DK: Hello, Nine. I heard you had a bit of a panic attack on the way over here. Would you like to talk about that today?

  A-09: I want to see him.

  DK: Who?

  A-09: Where is Two? I know he’s here. I saw him yesterday.

  DK: Oh. You’re referring to Subject Two of Subset A. Yes, I heard about that incident at the Academy. It’s all rather troublesome, taking care of his wounds.

  A-09: Please, can I see him?

  DK: I’m afraid the boy was rather uncooperative during his last session. Seems just seeing you awoke something in him. He’s currently in restraints in the seclusion room, after trying to bludgeon me with an IV rack. Tell me, is he always this violent?

  A-09: Not with me. He’s kind to me.

  DK: But I imagine he isn’t that way with others. Has he hurt other people?

  A-09: No.

  DK: The polygraph doesn’t lie.

  A-09: He’s hurt people to protect me. Like the bullies. But not badly. Just to get them to stop.

  DK: Interesting. Were you sexually active with him?

  (Silence from 00:03:10 to 00:03:19.)

  DK: I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t look so ashamed. He is an exquisitely beautiful boy. Although I can’t say I’m surprised. You two come from very good stock, do you know that? The majority of your comrades were donor embryos that matched the genetic profile, but you and Subject Two are different. Your biological parents gave you willingly to Project Pandora, when the program first began. How does that make you feel?

  A-09: I don’t know.

  DK: I don’t tolerate vague answers. Please clarify. Talk. You have a lovely voice, so you might as well use it.

  A-09: They told us at the Academy how we were created. What we were born for. I’ve always wanted an actual family, but now (:04 pause) it feels wrong. Two was supposed to go with me. (:05) Wait, is he? Is that why he’s here?

  DK: No. His personality makes him incompatible for transition into the political sphere, and as talented as he is, his continual insubordination rules out the possibility of a career in the military. But he has other uses, and with some training, we’ll tame him yet.

  A-09: You don’t know him like I do. He’s very smart, and he’s strong. What if he becomes my bodyguard?

  DK: Hmm, what makes you think he wants to protect you still? Don’t you think it’s possible he despises you?

  A-09: It’s not like that. I never wanted him to get hurt.

  DK: Are you familiar with the myth of Persephone?

  A-09: No, but listen. Please. Just let me see him. I can get him to cooperate. He’ll listen to me.

  DK: Interesting. With the way he responded when I talked about you, I assumed he wanted to kill you.

  Case Notes 11:

  Persephone

  After leaving the diner, Elizabeth and Hades went on a stroll through Rock Creek Park. When she heard that he had never visited the Smithsonian’s National Zoo, she insisted they check it out.

  As they entered the zoo, Hades took her hand. His grip was firm, reassuring. Just holding hands with him made her feel safe, as if he could protect her from whatever dangers came her way, whether man-made or natural.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never been here before,” she said as they walked past the Speedwell Conservation Carousel.

  “I just haven’t had time to.”

  The carousel featured a menagerie of oversize wooden animals, with children riding everything from a leopard to a bear to a silverback gorilla. Elizabeth had to raise her voice to be heard above the kids’ shrieking laughter and the cheerful calliope music.

  “Have you always lived in D.C.?” she asked.

  “I moved here when I was fifteen.” By the way he continuously glanced around him and fiddled with his belt, she had a feeling he wasn’t thrilled about being in crowded places. He seemed almost wary, like he expected a kid to blindside him and drench him in a soda or Slurpee.

  “Where did you live before that?”

  “Colorado, I think.”

  She grinned. “You think?”

  “Colorado,” he repeated with more conviction.

  They followed the signs to the Asia Trail exhibit. A breeze stirred the tree branches and caused the banners mounted on metal posts to shudder with a soft flapping sound. Shivering in her thin cashmere cardigan, she leaned against him, taking in his pleasant, smoky aroma and the subtle scent of tanned leather. He reminded her of autumn—the intense, fiery blaze that came before the winter die-off.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, smiling down at her.

  “Just a little,” she admitted.

  “We can’t have that, now can we?” He slipped his hand out of hers and unzipped his jacket. Underneath, his T-shirt clung against his body. The fabric’s dye was faded to a dull gray in places, but aside from that, the shirt was almost identical to the one he had worn earlier that week. Black like always.

  “Here you are, Miss Hawthorne,” he said, easing his jacket over her. Heavy folds of leather enveloped her, soft and weathered from use. His hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment longer then eased down her back, before slipping away entirely.

  “You’re so formal,” she teased, taking his hand again.

  “It’s the way I was trained,” he said, smirking.

  “There’s something I’ve been wondering.”

  “Yes?”

  “You always wear black. I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything colorful.”

  “I know.”

  “Why?” She cocked her head. “I mean, you aren’t a Goth, right?”

  Elizabeth didn’t think he was a Goth. While his eyelashes were so thick and dark that it almost looked like he was wearing eyeliner, she was close enough to tell he wore no makeup. His fair complexion was natural, and so was his hair. His face was unpierced, and although he had tattoos, they weren’t the typical motifs she’d expect from someone who belonged to that subculture. Besides, he was so warm and kind toward her, without angst or intentional coolness. And so polite, too.

  “What’s a Goth?” Hades asked, then laughed when she explained it to him. “No, I’m not a Goth. I’m just used to wearing single colors. It’s like a uniform. It’s familiar.”

  “At least you’ll never have to worry about if your wardrobe matches.”

  “Do people even think about that?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  She nodded. “That’s why I like how my school has a dress code.”

  They visited the Asia Trail first to look at the clouded leopards, but a crowd obscured their view and the cats remained out of sight. From there, they went on to the panda habitat, and after some meandering, they reached the Great Cats exhibit.

  Hades went up to the chain-link fence and leaned against it, staring down at the lions sunbathing below.

  “I kind of want to go in there,” he said thoughtfully.

  “You want to get mauled?” she asked, laughing.

  “Devoured,” he said, turning to her. In that moment, he reminded her of a panther or other wild cat, built for power and grace. Dangerous.

  “Are you sure you don’t just want a pet lion?” she asked, telling herself that the strange desire she saw smoldering in his bright blue eyes was only her imagination. Her sense of security was eclipsed by a sudden disquiet, but she ignored it.

  He smiled at her and said nothing.

  After Elizabeth and Hades watched the lions for a bit, they visited the porcupine exhibit. Then they found themselves at the Kids’ Farm.

  The air along the walkway was pungent with a
sweaty livestock odor that made her nose wrinkle. She stopped at the low wooden fence bordering the cow enclosure and leaned over.

  “Come here, sweetie,” she said and clicked her tongue at the spotted heifer on the other side of the fence. “Over here. Let me pet you.”

  The cow regarded her with lazy eyes, refusing to move.

  “It knows you ate its cousin for lunch,” Hades teased, resting a hand on her lower back. His palm pressed against her skin, warm and soothing.

  “Actually, I think that was you,” Elizabeth said. “I had a turkey burger, remember?”

  “Guilty as charged. It was a very delicious hamburger.”

  The goats and pigs proved equally unenthusiastic toward her, but at last she was able to coax an alpaca over. She ran her hand down its woolly neck, smiling at the texture of its fur.

  She turned to Hades. “Why don’t you try petting it?”

  He reached through the fence and set his hand on the alpaca’s head. He rubbed its flat, bony brow, looking wary and out of place, like he wasn’t used to being around animals.

  “You’re so adorable,” she told him.

  “Who? Me or the llama?”

  “It’s an alpaca,” she said. “And you.”

  They lingered at the petting zoo for a while, and over time he appeared to warm to the experience. He even laughed when a cow slobbered over his hand, leaving his fingers dripping with gritty, greenish saliva.

  From the Kids’ Farm they went on to the elephant exhibit. By the way Hades stared in amazement at the creatures, she wondered if he had ever seen an elephant before.

  When she asked him, he chuckled. “No, not in real life. I didn’t realize they were so big.”

  “Wait, is this your first time going to a zoo?” she asked.

  He didn’t respond, just stared at the lumbering elephants.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when she realized he wasn’t going to answer. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m just surprised. I thought everyone went to zoos. Didn’t you have any field trips as a kid?”