by Sarah Noffke
And then the thing wails once more, but this time it sounds as though he’s taken my problems and his and coupled them into a horrid operatic number.
“Oh shush, would you? You’re going to wake up the bloody queen,” I say. “And I’m trying to figure out my problems. God, don’t always make everything about you.”
He doesn’t shush but rather flushes redder. Grows louder.
“What do you bloody want from me? For fuck sake,” I say.
He beats his tiny fists into the mattress under him. He’s got Adelaide’s bad temper. These two are hopeless.
I pull my hand out of my pocket and reach for him. It’s the natural reaction, I think. My instinct taking over. But then I pause. I’ve only held two babies before and only because I killed their mother. And this thought actually makes me rush forward. Maybe because of the memory or maybe because I hate that memory and always want to cover it up.
I scoop Lucien into my arms; his head tethers a bit back and forth as I do. Still I manage to put him to my chest and not break his neck. And then he goes completely silent for the first time. Not just that, but he pushes in tighter to me, like trying to fill the empty places between us. And I’m stuck. Completely stuck holding this thing that is still and quiet and content in my arms. I feel I can’t put him down. Not if I want peace, which I need. This experience also makes me feel human and weird. And we stay like that for a long time.
Chapter Twenty- Two
“Oh good, you’re here,” I say, shoving Lucien into Mae’s arms. She startles a bit from the rushed movement, but recovers immediately. The old woman seems to struggle with the tangled blankets I’ve encircled the thing in. Her shaking crooked fingers falter a few times as she tries to get a proper hold on him.
“Don’t drop it,” I say, reaching out a hand to catch him if the need arises.
“Don’t you know how to properly swaddle a baby?” she says, laying the bundle on the sofa and spreading the blanket out alongside him.
“Yeah, that’s what I did,” I say smugly.
“No, you tied him in a blanket the way a stork would,” Mae says.
“But I didn’t smother him, now did I?” I say.
And just then the thing starts that incessant crying again. He’d been quiet since I picked him up several long hours ago. He didn’t even cry when I made the call to Trey, asking him to deliver Mae to my house. The thing would start crying though every time I tried to put him down, relieving myself of the burden. So I ended up holding him for hours, all so I didn’t have to hear the spirit-crushing, earsplitting noise.
I look up at Trey now. He’s standing in the doorway, hands pressed into his pockets, a dumb smile on his face.
“He’s beautiful, Ren,” he says, nodding at the sofa where Mae resides.
“Who is?” I say, feigning ignorance.
Trey’s smile widens. “It looks as though you rose to the challenge and did a good job caring for Lucien.”
“I kind of had to since his idiot mom is trashed and probably lying in a puddle of her own waste upstairs,” I say. I turn my attention back to Mae. “I’ll have a nanny ready to replace you by mid-morning, maybe early afternoon at the latest.” I had thought about making good on my offer and sending the thing to the Institute to live. However, even I can’t do that without Adelaide’s consent. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with the little monster, and yet I feel he’s partially my bloody obligation. What the fuck has my life come to?
The old woman is humming now; the baby in her arms, however, is still crying, although it doesn’t seem to bother the healer. “Take your time. Do the proper interviews to find the right one. I don’t mind taking care of this precious angel for as long as you need.” She then combs her withered fingers through his red hair.
“Can you hear anymore or does that incessant crying not bother you?” I say to the woman who is no doubt going senile. “And that isn’t what angels sound like, I’m pretty certain.”
“Come on, Ren, we should get back to the Institute. There’s more developments from the science department,” Trey says, waving me to the doorway where he stands.
“Oh, fucking great,” I say to Trey. “I think I’d rather listen to that thing scream for a few more hours than chat with your monkey scientist.”
***
“You did what?” Trey says.
“Well, it seemed like the best option. The most strategic and efficient approach,” I say to Trey as we stride through the Lucidite Institute corridor. “It really is an effective way to get an inside glimpse of what Vivian is doing.”
“But you legally married her. That’s a binding contract,” Trey says, and I’m proud to say this is the most shocked he’s ever looked about something I’ve done. It’s about time I wrestle an expression out of the man.
“Yes, that’s usually how marriages work,” I say.
“But she’s your wife now,” Trey says, still in disbelief.
“And as her husband I’ll be able to catch this bloody mole, find out what other evil plans she has, and exact a strategy to outmaneuver her. All things I’ve been struggling with and sadly failing at in one regard or another,” I say.
“That’s the thing, Ren. I don’t think I want Vivian to be stopped. Her efforts are successful and it’s having huge positive effects nationwide. Domestic violence is down, employee morale up, crime down, poverty on the decline, DWIs decreasing—”
I hold up my hand to cut him off. “I have read the bloody reports.”
“All I’m saying is that so many things are being positively affected by her Smart Pods. And the company recently released a press statement that they are rolling them out internationally,” Trey says, like he’s trying to inform me.
“Again, I married this woman and therefore I shagged her. I know what’s going on with the company. Pillow talk really is informative,” I say.
Trey shakes his head. “What did Dahlia say about this all?”
I shrug. “She was mad at first, but I think she’ll work that much harder in the bedroom now. Nothing like a little polygamy to stir things up.”
“Ren, my god. This is too far, even for you.”
“Don’t be so judgmental. And a little healthy competition is good for everyone,” I say with a calm superiority.
“This is bigamy,” Trey says.
“You say tomatoes, I say tomahtoes,” I say.
He shakes his head. Trey has a moral fiber that can’t be bested. There’s no one more restricted by a nasty conscience than this man. It would be irritating except that I know he creates balance in the world. There are men like me who aren’t restricted by guilt and then there’s Trey Underwood. Without him monsters would no doubt burn the Earth down.
“And Trey, we want a healthy world. I get it, but is this really the way? Through control?” I steer the conversation back toward the Smart Pods topic.
“It’s a healthy change though,” Trey says as we continue our trek through the artificially lit hallway.
“Sure, sure,” I say, dismissing him at once. “And right now Vivian’s making people behave in positive ways, curbing bad behavior, but what if she changes her mind? Are you going to allow her to have this power knowing she’s a diabolical murderer who can grow bored at any hour and make people off themselves?”
“Well, that’s one of the reasons you married her, right? So you could keep an eye on her?” Trey says.
I nod. “Yes, but I’m not sure keeping an eye on her is the solution. And also… I just don’t know if this Smart Pod is a good idea in creating positive change. We intervene to stop bad things from happening. However, we don’t control people and make them act in ways contrary to their fucked up DNA.”
“But don’t you see that what she’s doing is working?” Trey says. “And you said yourself that you don’t know. So think on it. Keep an eye on your wife and let’s find this mole.”
I stop outside the Head Idiots lab. “Aye aye,” I say wit
h a mock salute at Trey’s back.
Inside the dumb science lab I find two people I can’t stand and one I actually can.
“I upgraded the Kevlar suits so they now have an electrical current that can—”
“Shut up, Aiden,” I say, interrupting his conversation with Clint, my martial arts instructor.
Aiden hands a black suit to Clint; it looks heavy and like it’s dripping in disgusting technology. “As I was saying—”
“Clint, can I get another session with you this afternoon?” I say, cutting off the space chimp again.
The martial arts instructor tucks the suit under one arm. “You know you can.”
“Ohhhh…you’re learning to fight,” Roya says in a sing-song voice from her place perched on the top of the work table beside Aiden. “You must be scared of some baddies.”
“Shut your trap, Roya,” I say. “Adults are talking.”
“I can teach you some kung fu since my clairvoyance has vanished and I’ve got nothing else to do,” she says with a morbid laugh. “I’d enjoy the opportunity to spar with you.”
“Why don’t you and Aiden go play with your Barbies? And no. I only train with experts,” I say. “But I’ll give you a call if I need to learn how to be a major pain in the ass and a drain on everyone’s patience.”
Clint claps me on the shoulder as he passes by. “Yes, please stop by the studio this afternoon. I have some pressure points I want to show you. They take some practice or otherwise they won’t be immediately effective, which is the point,” he says, walking for the exit.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I say.
“So my dad says Mae is your new interim nanny,” Roya says just as Clint rounds out of the lab.
I turn my attention on her. “Stay out of my business, little girl,” I say. “Busy yourself by doing something useful, like trying to get rid of your resting bitch face.”
“Don’t you think it’s an abuse of the Institute’s resources to require our Head Healer to drop everything and care for your grandbaby?” she says with a devilish smirk.
“You don’t want to know what I fucking think. I promise you,” I say and flip my gaze up to Aiden. “Trey says you have some revolting technology for me.”
“I do. I do,” he sings.
I grimace at his unbelievably happy nature. Someone should give him shock treatment to fix that problem.
“Just hand it over before any more time with you two crushes my restraint,” I say.
“Restraint for what?” Roya chirps, obviously amused.
“My restraint to not end you,” I say.
“Every time you threaten me I know it’s just your special way of expressing your unyielding affection for me,” Roya says.
“Yes, that’s it. You’re such an insightful twerp.” I then snap at Aiden. “Technology. Now.”
He retrieves something small from his stupid white lab coat pocket.
“Remember how I was able to create that inner ear device that blocked Sophie’s ability to make you hallucinate?” he says.
“You do realize I loathe your ‘remember when’ questions, because you know I do. I’m a fucking genius. Remember?” I say.
“Right,” he squeaks. “Anyway, using the framework from the ESD I—”
“When are you going to bloody realize that I don’t care about your stupid science?” I snap again. “Technology. What is it?”
He actually nods this time, like he’s aware I’m not a fan of his long monologues about dumb science theory. “Well, I think I found a way to stop Vivian’s ability to control through voice commands. However, I need you to test the technology on her. If it works then I could send out a signal mimicking this design to all Smart Pods, thereby disabling her voice controls. Well, that is, if Trey sanctions. Currently he approves of the Smart Pods,” Aiden says.
“I know bloody well what Trey approves of,” I say, ripping the two tiny earbuds out of his hand.
“You have to be wearing both of those in both ears,” Aiden says, pointing to the devices in my palm. “They serve as filters, stripping the persuasion out of her words. At least that’s the hope, but you’ll have to get her to try and use voice control on you first to determine that. I thought about testing it myself with one of the Smart Pods that we know can send out voice controls. However, I was worried that if it didn’t work Roya and I wouldn’t ever argue again. That would be a shame. Where would the fun in our relationship be without the occasional debate?”
I roll my eyes, on the verge of using hypnotism to make Aiden pass out. “Do me a favor and don’t breed, you two,” I say.
“Actually, I have great news,” Aiden says, a dumb glint in his eyes. “Roya and I are going to have a baby.”
Like my head is weighted by lead, I slowly bring my chin up until my eyes are shooting darts at the ceiling. “God, are you even there anymore? Did you go on holiday? Or are you a fucking idiot?” I say aloud to the God who uses me as a pawn and allows atrocious people to breed.
Roya’s face remains stone. Aiden chuckles at my display. “Just think Ren, our child and your grandchild can be pals.”
“Yes, let’s set up a playdate and leave the children unsupervised with a bunch of chemicals and sharp objects,” I say.
“I love your jokes,” he says, throwing his head back and laughing loudly just as my mobile rings in my pocket.
“Shut it, you bloody primate,” I say, turning and strolling for the door as I take the call. It’s not a number that registers with caller ID.
“Ren Lewis,” I say into the mobile.
“Hello, Mr. Lewis,” a woman says, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. “Can I tell you how amazing it feels to finally have your direct line?”
“I believe you just did. Now who are you?” I say.
“Oh, right,” the woman says and I picture she slaps her forehead. “It’s Jennifer Long, your personal assistant.”
“Right,” I say with a long growl.
“So I’ve gone ahead and located a nanny for you. She has top recommendations and I’ve gone ahead and run a background check and—”
“Wait,” I say, stopping halfway down the short hallway. “What the fuck? How did you know that I needed a new nanny?”
“Mistress told me, of course. She told me to hire your daughter a new nanny right away. She also asked me to have a substance abuse counselor sent over to your house which—”
“Cancel both. The nanny and the counselor,” I say.
“But sir, it was Vivian’s orders,” the woman says.
“And who do you work for?”
“You, of course.”
“Then do it. I’ll find my own nanny, got it?” I say. “Now go ahead and take the afternoon off. From now on you take orders directly from me, not Vivian. Check everything through me, but don’t tell Vivian that’s what you’re doing. All right?”
“Yes, sir,” she says. “And thank you for the afternoon off. What would you have me do tomorrow?”
“I want you to set me up with full access to all of Smart Solutions’ systems and files,” I say and shut off the mobile. I still don’t know who the mole is but now I’ve narrowed it down to six people.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Meet me in my office in five minutes,” I say into the mobile.
“Wait, but why?” Vivian says on the other side of the line.
“Because you’re my wife and you’re going to do what I bloody tell you,” I say, sticking one of the tiny buds into my ear. It’s sleek and definitely undetectable.
“But I have a dinner meeting in half an hour that can’t be canceled,” she says, in her voice that more and more also sounds like it was stolen from Marilyn Monroe.
Perfect, I think. “And you’re not going to have to miss the meeting, darling,” I say and slide the other bud into my ear.
“But Ren—”
“You’re a fucking Dream Traveler. Pop over here from New York and do it pron
to. It will take you five minutes to dream travel and generate your body on the GAD-C,” I say.
“But why?” Vivian says, and I know I have to play this right. This is not a dumb woman.
“Because I said. And I want to talk to you in person,” I say.
“Is this about—”
“You know where my office is,” I say, cutting her off. “Get here now.” And then I switch off the phone.
Less than five minutes later there’s a knock at my door. Vivian stands on the other side of the door wearing a strapless black cocktail dress. Her collar bones greet my eyes with a sexy hello. Without hesitation she folds herself around me at once, her arms squeezing my shoulders. Need oozes off her every movement. She’s the very opposite of Dahlia. This woman needs the man in her life to fix her. To fill up all the places in her that her parents left empty. I pull her into me, surprised that I don’t mind the intimate gesture so much. She smells of lilac and salt and I find my nose in her hair breathing her in. I pull back at once and wave her into the office, which is ten percent of the size of hers. However, I don’t need much space. Most of what I do happens inside my head.
I take my seat behind my desk only to find her beside me, her ass half on my desk, her legs stretched out in front her.
“I’ve missed you,” she says, leaning back. “There’s things I’ve had to take care of myself. It’s really unfair.”
“You’ll live,” I say, pushing my rolling chair a few inches back. “Jennifer called.”
“Oh, did she. She’s a doll, isn’t she? I went ahead and decided to actually assign her fully to you, which is why she now has your number. No more fake orders for her. But now you know she’s trained and been prepped to work for you. Isn’t that wonderful?” Vivian says.
“Where did she get the order to hire a nanny for Adelaide?”
“From me, of course,” she says.
“And how did you find out that the nanny was in need of replacing?” Vivian is making these orders, which means she’s not intent on keeping her mole secret anymore, so why should I?