The Secret (The Scinegue Series Book 1)

by S. R. Booth

  Billy just nodded, hoping he would find his voice soon. He had a lot of questions to ask.

  Uncle Bill sat back in his big chair and studied the fire intently, as if he could see a movie of his memories playing there. “You were always a good boy. A smart boy. I enjoyed spending time with you when you were little.” He glanced over at Billy. “I never had a family of my own, as you might remember. I always appreciated Jacob sharing his with me.”

  “Jacob?” Billy managed to ask.

  Uncle Bill turned to look at him, surprise etched in his features. “I guess you never knew your great-grandfather, Jacob Roth.” He shook his head. “That’s a shame. He was my best friend in the whole world. Oh, I miss that man to this very day.”

  “How did you know him?”

  “We went to college together. Hit it off right from the start. We went into business together after that, and when Jacob got married, he and his wife Elaine made me an honorary part of their family.” He stared back at the fire and smiled fondly at his memories.

  “I’ll bet you didn’t know I was the first person, after the doctor and nurses, to hold your grandfather, did you?” He laughed at Billy’s surprised expression.

  “Your great-grandmother was at the hospital in labor and couldn’t get in touch with Jacob so she called me. She knew I would have a way of getting ahold of him. I tracked him down but beat him to the hospital. The nurse came out holding a bundle and said ‘Roth, baby boy,’ and I just held out my arms and took him. I think that’s about as close to having your own child as you can get without actually doing it, holding a baby that is only minutes old...” he trailed off and sighed before chuckling, “It was hard handing him over to your great-grandfather when he walked in, let me tell you.” A sad smile flitted across his face.

  “I was always ‘Uncle Bill’ to your grandfather and to your dad and eventually to you,” he continued. “After Elaine, and then Jacob, passed away, I still spent a lot of time with your grandparents. We had a lot in common. When your dad got married he tried to keep me included in his family. Without Jacob linking us, well, the relationship became strained, and over the years we lost contact. But,” he shook a finger at Billy, “I’ve kept an eye on you, my boy, and I am so glad to finally get to see you again.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave Billy a thorough appraisal, happy with what he saw.

  “Are you the reason I got the job at Scinegue?” Billy asked his first, but probably least burning question.

  “Hmm,” Uncle Billy said, tapping his lips with a finger. “That’s a little harder to answer than you might believe. I kept you from falling through the cracks, you could say, but Billy, my boy, you were born for this job. How have you enjoyed your time at Scinegue so far?” he diverted Billy’s question with one his own, still undecided how much he was prepared to reveal at this first meeting.

  “Well, I worked as a trash collector for about seven months, and it was okay, but it wasn’t my dream job. This is my third day working in the office. Yesterday was really the only day that I had a chance to do any work, but I liked what I did. It was very interesting,” he answered truthfully.

  “I’m glad to hear that. Your great-grandfather and I were in on the ground floor of starting Scinegue. I have to admit I am rather proud of how it has grown and expanded.”

  “You and my great-granddad started Scinegue?” Billy questioned warily. “Sarah and I read that eugenics started in the 1800s. You’re nowhere near that old.”

  Uncle Bill gave a hearty laugh and slapped his thigh. “No, I’m not quite that old. Yet.” He took a moment to chuckle again before continuing.

  “So, you know about the eugenics connection. That’s not too surprising I suppose, I did say you were a smart boy. No, we didn’t start the theory of eugenics, but we learned about it together in one of our college classes. After we graduated we went to work for a company that was involved with eugenics. We were young idealists, and the people who started the company could sure get our blood pumping when they talked about what they envisioned for the future of the human race, and their plans for getting there.” He smiled at the fire as a log popped, sending a shower of sparks into the air. The passion that burned in him as a young man had been every bit as explosive. He’d been filled with the desire to heal the world.

  “Over the years, we developed our own opinions on the subject. That’s why we renamed the company Scinegue after we took it over. Eugenics backwards,” he smiled over at Billy to gauge his reaction, “which is pretty much what we wanted to pursue.”

  Billy looked as confused as he felt, and Uncle Bill laughed again with a shrug of his shoulder. “Let’s just say that as wonderful as eugenics was made to sound, it wasn’t exactly what we were interested in. So, we took some of the better ideas from the theory—or religion as some would call it—and disposed of the rest.”

  When Billy remained silent, Uncle Bill turned to look at him with a sympathetic smile. “That’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” His voice was soft. “Well, there is more. Much, much more,” he added almost under his breath. “Are you up to hearing it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Billy said resolutely as he straightened in his chair, unreasonably fearful of what else he might have to say.

  “I think first I should ask, do you have any pressing questions so far?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. So many I don’t know where to start.” Billy glanced around, wondering if the room was bugged and what he should—and shouldn’t—ask. “I am curious why you never married,” he finally said. “You said you appreciated Jacob sharing his family with you, yet you never had a family of your own?”

  “Oh, right off to the heart of the matter for us,” Uncle Bill laughed, but not happily. “I wasn’t sure if this was something I was going to bring up today or not. We have so many other things to discuss, but this question is more important than you might realize.” He rubbed a hand across his brow.

  “Since you asked, I guess it really is the best place to start.” He took a fortifying breath. “I never married because the only woman I ever loved was married to someone else. I didn’t mention it earlier, but your great-grandmother Elaine worked with Jacob and me at the company that became Scinegue. We did everything together; we were the stereotypical three musketeers.” A brief, pain filled grin crossed his features at the memory.

  “We were all great friends, but at some point, Elaine and I started to develop an attraction to each other. I think Jacob knew, but none of us ever mentioned it. I’m not sure how much you know about Scinegue yet,” he paused to give Billy a searching look, “but we were working on similar problems way back then just as the company is now.”

  That look kicked Billy’s curiosity into overdrive. Uncle Bill seemed to want something from him, seemed to expect him to know something about Scinegue, but he couldn’t imagine what.

  He was on the verge of asking his uncle to tell him more about Scinegue when he continued, “I think it’s safe to tell you that along with making the world a better place, we were also interested in making man the best he could be: the healthiest, smartest, most productive. With those goals in mind, it was decided that some of us would volunteer to be matched with our ideal mates and, of course,” he explained smoothly, “have children at some point.”

  Billy’s heart pounded at this confirmation of what the Browns had told him.

  “Elaine and I both volunteered, and I’m pretty sure she believed—as I did—that we were an obvious match. Jacob also volunteered, and according to the criteria the company used, he and Elaine were the chosen match.” His mouth turned down at the corners with that memory.

  “I could tell Elaine was disappointed—as was I—but we believed there was an important purpose behind what they were chosen to do, so she and Jacob were married. Oh, a wife was selected for me as well,” he sighed and ran his hand along the smooth leather on the arm of his chair, “but I just couldn’t do it. Your great-grandmother had my heart. I knew I would not be able to even fake a marriage with a
nother woman,” his voice was low and passionate.

  “For the most part, Jacob and Elaine and I went on as usual, spending all of our time together. We were at work together each day, and I was at their home most evenings. We were doing okay until after a reasonable amount of time went by and Elaine still hadn’t conceived. Since the whole idea behind the experiment was to use two nearly-perfect people to produce and raise a nearly-perfect child, if either Elaine or Jacob was unable to have children, they would have been removed from the program and, sadly, from the company altogether.”

  Billy watched wordlessly as the flickering light from the fire played over his uncle’s features, intensifying his pained expression.

  “One night, Elaine caught me before I left work and asked if we could talk. Of course I said yes, and we went to dinner. She told me she had some preliminary tests done, and it looked like everything was probably fine with her. She thought Jacob might have some type of problem that was keeping them from having children. She said she was scared because she overheard someone at the company say that there were too many defective people in this world already, and if Jacob had problems, they should just get rid of him.” He cleared his throat before continuing.

  “People had already talked to Elaine about a new husband the company had selected for her, and she was sick with worry. She was able to marry Jacob because she loved him. I’m sure she loved me more,” he added with a quick glance at Billy, “but we were all very close friends. She would never have been comfortable marrying a stranger.” He looked back at the fire with a frown.

  “She cried as she told me if she didn’t get pregnant in the next couple of months, they would get rid of Jacob since it didn’t look like she had a problem. She didn’t have any proof, but she felt sure they planned to kill him.”

  Billy leaned forward, engrossed. Killing someone considered ‘imperfect’ sure lined up with the stuff Sarah had read about eugenics.

  “After dinner we took a walk so she could gather herself, and we ended up at my house. Before the night was over your grandfather was conceived. We never told Jacob, but when Elaine realized she was pregnant a couple of months later I think he suspected.”

  He looked Billy in the eye. “I want to tell you I was just being noble and doing my part to protect a friend. I told myself that for years. The truth was, way down deep, I thought that might be our way to be together. I secretly thought if she conceived we would surely get married, even though that would mean hurting Jacob.” His eyes drifted down to the floor.

  “That one night together made not being with her absolute torture. I talked to her once about divorcing Jacob, quitting the company and running away with me.” He sighed. “Only once. She gave me the most tormented look I had ever seen, reminded me that she was a wife and now a mother, and on top of that she was part of an experiment that could change the world.”

  Uncle Bill stared at the flickering fire, completely lost in his memories, as Billy stared at him and tried to make sense of what he was hearing. How was it possible that he’d gone his whole life knowing none of this? He had never even heard of the connection between his uncle and Scinegue.

  “Jacob never let on if he suspected anything,” Uncle Bill continued suddenly, interrupting Billy’s musings, “except for the day at the hospital when he saw me holding out his son to him—my son—and he acted as if he wasn’t going to take him. For just a minute he looked at the baby, then looked at me, and I really thought he was going to just walk away.”

  He rushed on, “I can’t tell you the excitement I felt in that moment. Elaine would have never left him. But if he left her and the baby? Of course she would marry me. Then he reached out, took the baby and fell in love with him. His little Danny.” He sighed deeply. “Whatever he knew, or thought he knew, he always loved that boy as his own,” the pain in his voice was cutting.

  “I’ve rambled on forever,” Uncle Bill said abruptly, turning to Billy. “Would you like a cup of tea, or perhaps a glass of water?”

  “You’re my great-grandfather?” Billy asked in amazement, putting the pieces together, and ignoring the question he’d been asked.

  “Well, yes, I guess maybe I should have just said that?” He smiled and looked at Billy uncertainly. “Like I said, I wasn’t sure if I was going to bring all of that up just yet. Should I have waited?” he asked seriously.

  Billy stood up and walked over to the windows to gaze out at the gloomy day. “No,” he answered slowly, “I’m glad you told me.” He turned back to face his great-grandfather. “It is a lot to digest. I guess I’m curious why you’re telling me all of this now. It doesn’t sound like you’ve told anyone else. Am I the first?”

  “Let me have some refreshments served. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

  “No, sir. I came straight here from the airport.”

  “Would you like to go down to the dining room or have something sent up so we can finish our conversation privately?”

  “I would like to finish this conversation if that’s all right with you.”

  “Perfectly all right.” He reached for the phone on a small table next to his chair, and Billy heard him order a light lunch and tea.

  Billy moved from the window and stopped in front of one of the works of art on the wall depicting a fox hunt. The fox had a slight lead on a pack of dogs with horses and riders bringing up the rear. He found himself sympathetic for the fox, rooting foolishly for it, hoping it would somehow manage to outfox the pack and riders pursuing it and escape its troubles. Right now he was the fox, he thought. Hounded by his uncle’s revelations and anxious of what might yet be revealed.

  When he heard Uncle Bill replace the phone on its cradle, he returned to his chair and sat back down, the green leather creaking under his weight. Looking at the man who was his great-grandfather, he realized the fact didn’t bother him for his sake. He hadn’t known his great-grandfather Jacob and had loved spending time with Uncle Bill as a boy. But he did wonder how his dad would feel about it.

  “I know you have questions,” Uncle Bill continued the conversation where they’d left off, “and I will try to answer them all, but I think your last one was important enough to answer first. The experiment that Jacob and Elaine were involved in did not stop with them. It was continued on through two more generations. The final generation, so far, being you.”

  Torn between revealing that he already knew about being a third-generationer, or staying quiet and letting Uncle Bill do all the talking, Billy decided the latter was probably a better choice. He was finding it too easy to trust Uncle Bill since he’d grown up with him in his life, but that didn’t mean he was the nice old man he seemed to be.

  Uncle Bill took Billy’s silence for surprise and continued talking. “Yes, my boy, it has been kept a closely guarded secret, but you’ve been bred from select stock for ultimate perfection.” He laughed gruffly. “I am getting to be an old man and will soon be ready to pass my place in the Tops to my heir,” he emphasized the word.

  “You are the first person I’ve shared this story with because, God willing, you will be my successor and the next Tops representative in this region.” He sat back contentedly and let Billy soak those words in as their lunch was arranged on a small table by the windows.

  When the wait staff left the room, Uncle Bill asked Billy to join him at the table. Billy only picked at the delicious meal as his uncle ate heartily. Thoughts of the tangled past Uncle Bill had begun unveiling swirled through his mind and combined with the strange things he’d been finding out about Scinegue.

  Before he realized it, Uncle Bill was pushing back from the table and patting his trim belly. “Another excellent meal. One of the perks of working for Scinegue, as I’m sure you have already come to realize.”

  Billy gave a detached reply expressing his agreement and followed the older man back to the leather chairs by the fire. Uncle Bill sat and looked at Billy with a sad smile, and Billy noted for the first time in his life that his uncle’s light blue eyes wer
e a perfect match for his own.

  “Are you disappointed?”

  “Disappointed?” Billy asked, pulling his thoughts from his realization.

  “Yes, in finding out that you’re related to me,” the older man said hesitantly.

  Billy smiled. “Uncle Bill, I always thought I was related to you. You know the uncle part? You were a part of my life when I was younger. My mom and dad never told me any different, and I never asked exactly how you were related.”

  His uncle’s look of concern melted as Billy continued. “I can’t help feeling a little sorry for Jacob, and especially for my granddad. I guess in his case what he didn’t know didn’t hurt him. I think I feel the most sorry for you, though.”

  “For me?” Uncle Bill questioned, his thick white eyebrows arched in surprise.

  “It seems like you missed out on so much in life for this company. Obviously there were some perks.” He looked around the spacious apartment with a grin. “When I think about you and Elaine,” his grin faded, “I can’t help picturing myself in the same position with my wife, Sarah. She’s the love of my life. I don’t think I could have just stood by and watched her marry my best friend, and then watched him live the life I should have been living.”

  Uncle Bill shook his head. “That was part of it, true. What we were doing—what we are doing—for science, for humanity, is so important though. Much more important than one man’s emotions.”

  “He couldn’t even have children,” Billy argued. “I’m sure you and Elaine were closely enough matched that it wouldn’t have hurt the experiment any if you had taken his place.”

  “But at what cost?” came the quiet reply. “We’ve done our best to ensure that things are different now. Back then, there were a few hotheads in the company who did believe people who were not perfect, or at least not as perfect as themselves, should be killed. They thought if all those imperfect people were gone, there would be plenty of resources for more deserving people.”