by Potts, Allie
“I would have slept at the hospital if I just wanted a nap,” Betty snapped.
“Sorry, then I just don’t understand. What does Alan think is the matter? You do know that I am not a medical doctor, right? My studies were purely theoretical. I am afraid I don’t have any experience with what you described.”
“Yes, you do.” Juliane pulled her hand back as Betty spun with violence to face her. “You and Alan have more experience than anyone.” Gone was any appearance of nicety from Betty’s expression. “The doctors aren’t going to find anything. They don’t know yet what they're looking for, but I do. I was there. I saw what it did to you and Alan.” Betty’s shoulders sagged under the weight of her pronouncement.
“You think Alan performed the procedure on your son? He takes incredible risks, but I can’t imagine he would risk a child’s well-being.” Juliane considered what she knew about Alan. “Well, perhaps he would with other people’s kids, but never his own! What did Alan say when you asked him about it?”
Betty’s shoulders slumped as the fight left her body as quickly as it had arrived. “He denied everything of course.”
Juliane was out of her depth and racked her brain to find a way to defuse the situation. Pressure began to bloom behind her temple like a thunderhead. There was no time for distraction. She had to get back to the business at hand. “Alan and I don’t see eye to eye very often, but I would be inclined to believe him. There has to be another explanation.”
Betty raised an eyebrow at Juliane’s statement but did not challenge her further. “Alan may not have strapped him to a table and stuck him with needles, but he’s wrong about not being responsible.”
Juliane’s forehead knit. “What are you suggesting?”
“If he didn’t have the procedure, then there is another fairly basic explanation. The virus mutated, and he was simply born with the upgrade but doesn’t have the mental maturity to control it.”
“Could that really happen?”
“Easily. You of all people should understand how survival depends on adaptation. Now, unless I can figure out a way to help him control it, I expect the energy drain is killing him.”
The room took on a temporary red hue, and Betty’s features blurred as a meeting notice flared within Juliane’s mind. Stuart must have successfully gotten everyone online. Betty was obviously under a lot of stress and grasping at any possible solution, but her theory was ridiculous. There was no way that Alan would have allowed the virus to escape his control. The minute hand on her internal clock shifted again. By now, her first contact would have briefed his colleagues on their earlier conversation. If she was going to be able to bring them around to her way of thinking, she needed to make sure this time they understood exactly how displeased she was, and each second was more time for them to agree on some lip service statement. Her legacy as well as several lives were potentially at stake.
As much as she wanted to help her friend, there was nothing she could do better than the care he was already receiving at the clinic. While Juliane had debated her options, Betty had wiped her tears away, but her skin still remained smeared with moisture. Clearly she was looking for some form of comfort, but Juliane was still unsure what she could offer.
“What did Alan say when you talked to him about this possibility?” Juliane began moving toward the door, hopeful that the motion might encourage Betty to follow.
“He still thinks the cause is something more ordinary, like night terrors or epilepsy. He near accused me of hiding a genetic defect in my family history. As if our son’s condition couldn’t possibly be a result of something from his side of the family tree or something he did.” Once again, Betty’s cheeks flared with pent-up anger.
Juliane could almost see the remaining evidence of tears evaporate when exposed to the fire of Betty’s expression. She had never seen her friend look so fierce.
Pulling the door open for Betty, Juliane commented, “I know too well how Alan can be at times, but he is one of the most brilliant minds alive today. I am sure that if he just has time to really look at the problem, he’ll be able to figure it out.”
Betty refused to budge.
Juliane continued as if Betty wasn’t like a land mine posed to go off with a single misstep. “Until then, I am sure the doctors are going to take great care of your son.”
Betty remained where she stood.
Looking at the open door, Juliane wondered if it might be easier to join the call from a nearby conference room. “You are still more than welcome to stay and get some rest here before heading back to the hospital."
Betty chewed her lip as she took a small step toward the open door. Her voice dropped to a dull monotone when she next spoke. Her shoulders shifted not unlike a lioness readying herself for a strike. “I don’t believe you realize how closely you came to dying in the labs while you adjusted to the change.”
Betty pivoted and began strolling along the side of the room, running her finger along the wall. “If Chad and I hadn’t made sure you were cared for, you wouldn't be in this fancy office today.”
Stopping near Juliane’s desk, she picked up Juliane’s paperweight and held it as if studying its living counterpart. “You always thought yourself so much better than the rest of us . . .”
Returning the metal lizard to its resting place, she redirected her attention to Juliane. “Remember how concerned you had been about my ability to handle the upgrade? You didn’t think I could handle it. Now, imagine what it must be like for my son. He’s only a child. All I am asking is for you to help me take care of him. There is no one in this world as experienced as you to guide him through the process.” Betty’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Please, Jules. I am begging you.”
Juliane winced. She recognized that the woman was a desperate mother, but if Alan suspected the child’s condition was caused by epilepsy, then it probably was, and no amount of mentoring would change that. Juliane shook her head. There was nothing she could do.
Betty’s nostrils flared. “I see. I came here looking for a friend. But I see now, I never had one here. The next time you need help, and you will, don’t look to me to bail you out,” she spat.
The room flared red again. Juliane drew herself up. She had never asked for Betty’s help. She had managed for years without anyone. She didn’t need anyone. Relationships just got in the way. Juliane sighed as her headache began to ease. Perhaps it was better this way. She’d keep it professional, but perhaps it was time for them all to focus on the bigger picture.
Juliane mentally summoned Stuart back to the office. He must have returned to his desk as he was instantly inside the room. “Dr. Dronigh has had a tiring past few weeks. Can you please make sure that she has something cool to drink while I attend this meeting and arrange for a car to take her back to St. James Hospital?”
Her assistant’s eyes closed as he began to make the requested arrangements, but Betty interrupted them, “There is no need. I am perfectly capable of finding my own way back.”
Before either of them could say a word, Betty made her way out of the office door, her every step like that of a death row prisoner resigned to her fate.
Twenty Four
“Dr. Dronigh’s just under a great deal of stress,” Juliane explained to Stuart as Betty exited the office. “Even if she won’t accept our help, can you please make sure that someone follows her back to the hospital to ensure she makes it there safely?" Juliane paused in thought. Betty wouldn't appreciate the gesture, not after Juliane’s refusal. "But have them hang back a few feet. I am not sure that she would recognize it as a kindness in her present state.”
“Right away.” Stuart turned, following Betty’s path. Juliane forced Betty out of her thoughts; she could not allow herself to be distracted, especially not in the virtual world.
She closed her eyes and focused accessing her domain. The virtual image resolved into a well-furnished conference room, mirroring an office space located on th
e other side of the planet. A trio of individuals sat around the table. Her first point of contact was seated on the end and lacked the degree of command over his virtual appearance displayed by the others. His clothes alternated between power suit and armor. A woman appeared on the other end of the table. While her appearance remained constant, her body was as translucent as a ghost. The third, another man, appeared solid from the waist up but had neglected to visualize his feet. Juliane frowned. Their lack of competency in the virtual world should have been an indicator of their competency in the real world.
“Let’s get started. I’ve called you here today because I just received word that there has been another incident reported. I trust that you have already initiated the required counseling for his roommates? Who would like to tell me more about the unfortunate worker and what is being done to prevent a recurrence?”
The man in the center of the trio began to answer, but Juliane couldn’t understand the words. She bit down on a curse. While caught up with Betty’s dramatic visit, she had neglected to turn on her translation program. It really did not take up that much processing power; she decided that once she finished this meeting, she would just keep it running in the background continuously.
The words began to flow into a language she would recognize as the translation tool took effect.
“. . . not been able to identify any family or next of kin. We acted very efficiently in response. The body has already been sent to the furnace for incineration.” Juliane pursed her lips. The translation program wasn’t completely perfect. It tended to substitute incorrect words, especially with languages which contained multiple dialects. It couldn’t possibly have translated that last sentence correctly.
Juliane felt a tug on her senses. What now? she thought. Turning back to the trio across from her, she said, “It would seem that I need to cut this meeting short.” It was time to make a lasting impression. “These sorts of incidents cannot continue. I shouldn’t even have to use the plural of that word. I need you to make significant changes, and I need you to do so now. We may not have to worry about a family coming around, making demands, or talking to the media this time, but we cannot afford for there to be a next time. Consider this your number one priority. I don’t want you to sleep or eat unless you first bring me a more permanent corrective action. If you do not, you can believe I will reprogram your brains so that all food tastes of ash and only nightmares find you when you close your eyes.”
As she spoke, the conference room transformed into a wilderness. She willed her avatar to grow in size until she could easily grind them under her shoe like bugs. Storm clouds rolled in, filling the artificial sky, and creatures with disjointed limbs, razor teeth, and gray-scaled skin slithered toward her audience. The translucent woman tried to stand and run away. Juliane exerted her will, rendering her incapable of movement.
She shifted her focus to the man in the suit of armor. The metal plates became red hot under her gaze. His lack of experience with the virtual world was apparent as he struggled to physically remove the suit rather than just wishing it away. She stopped only when he stood naked before her.
The third paled when she turned her attention his way but did not attempt to fight or flee. There might be hope for at least one of the sorry group after all. “I believe I’ve made my point. Now go. I expect a full report, and I expected it yesterday.” All three disappeared like soap bubbles popping the instant she released them.
“And you tease me about my flair for the dramatic.” Alan strode into view on the virtual landscape as she shrank herself back to her regular size.
Two Dronighs in one day? Juliane shook her head. Her meeting should have been set up with private access. Either Alan had hacked his way into her virtual meeting space or Stuart had been lax in setting the meeting up. She should be furious, but didn’t know whom to direct her anger at. Besides, she told herself, it wouldn't do any good. Alan had never been ashamed of his blatant eavesdropping. He had always countered that it was her fault for not taking better precautions. “I’m sorry to hear about Stevie.”
“Do you think that was really necessary?” said Alan, gesturing in the direction where the trio had been. “At least one of them is now trying to explain the loss of bladder control without losing face.”
“Have you ever noticed the picture of the dogs in my office?” Juliane asked.
“The Bullmastiffs? Of course, I’d noticed it. It always seemed odd to me that you would have that, yet no other family photos. You’ve never exactly struck me as a dog person. I know you don’t have them now, so I assumed they were childhood pets or something.”
“Or something.” Juliane paused. “My mother . . . well, she wasn’t exactly the family portrait type.”
“So what? You bought a frame you liked, and just kept the picture that came with it?”
“No. The dogs were real, but they belonged to one of my mom’s boyfriends. Troy.”
“You couldn’t have one of your own, so you adopted?” Alan laughed at his own joke.
“Hardly.”
“I don’t understand.” The smile left Alan’s face. “Why then do you have their picture?”
“It’s a reminder.” Juliane bit her lip. Explaining her reason for keeping the photo was harder than she had anticipated. “I used to be so envious of those dogs. I wasn’t allowed to make a sound. My mom told me that after working all day my voice gave Troy a headache, but the dogs could jump and bark, and no one seemed to mind." Juliane's eyes tightened as the memory came back. "My mom doted on those dogs. I think she thought Troy would love her more for it. I would be starving, and she would make sure they had a piece of steak from the table. Then they would laugh about it. The joke was it was because the dogs had a job and I didn’t. I didn’t know what that meant until I saw a few bills drop to the floor as Troy came inside stinking of cigars and wet dog. I realized then that Troy was betting on the animals.
"I could have turned him into the police. I could have turned them both in. But I didn't. I thought if I could prove I was just as tough as those dogs, maybe then I wouldn't be treated as just some kid who got in the way." Juliane sighed. Not having actually witnessed a dog fight firsthand, she didn't then realize what a horrible practice it was. Troy's dogs never showed a hint of injury.
"I didn't say a word," she continued, "but Troy knew that I knew. Back then I thought it was a test, to see how tough I really was. He would tell me about how well his dogs did and what they had done to the losers. I thought he was waiting to see me cry or flinch, but all I noticed was the patterns. It was just simple statistics to me, and I started telling Troy how to place his next bet." Juliane smirked. "It didn't take him long to recognize I wasn't just some airhead. Suddenly, I was served steak, and Mom, the leftovers."
Juliane's smile faded. "Mom couldn't handle not being the center of attention, so we left but not before Troy taught me one last lesson. When it comes to gaining respect, love is a nice concept, but sometimes a good healthy dose of fear works even better.”
“I am sure you managed to be permanently etched in all three of those factory workers’ memories,” Alan said. “I just wonder how many of them are going to change their ways because it is the right thing to do, versus how many of them are going to do as instructed just because they are terrified of you.”
“In the scheme of things, does it really matter what their motivation is, provided lives are saved? It is for the greater good.”
Alan’s avatar eyebrows rose with the corner of his lips. “I’m sure you know how to deal with your people best.”
Juliane smiled at Alan’s acknowledgment. “Indeed. So what brings you to my domain? I assume you didn't hack into my meeting space just as a simple social call.”
Alan placed his hand against his heart. “You wound me. I always look forward to our little get-togethers.”
“So much so that I haven’t seen you for nearly a year, yet you show up uninvited on the same day that Betty v
isits. I am sorry if I can’t believe it is entirely coincidental.”
The smile left Alan’s face, and his avatar instantly aged several years. “Ah, Betty has already been here then?”
“She’s the one who told me about Stevie.”
It was the first time that Juliane could recall Alan appearing to be anything but in control of the situation. “Well . . . that is”—his tongue flicked out as the words escaped like a serpent sampling the air—“regrettable. I am afraid that the last few months have not been exactly kind to my wife. I fear that the combination of stress and parenthood may be getting to her.”
“She needs sleep. Maybe you two should take some time off.”
“She needs more than just a weekend getaway.”
Juliane fought the blush from showing on her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to suggest . . .”
Alan waved the words away with a flick of his hand. “No need to apologize. She and I will work through this time just like any other problem we’ve faced. I am only sorry that she chose to share our personal life with you.”
“For what it is worth, I am really sorry that he is going through this. That you all are going through this.”
Alan shrugged again. “The boy will survive or he won’t.”
Juliane fought the urge to rub her arms to fight the coldness of Alan’s words. It was no wonder that Betty was seeking help if that was the support she was getting at home.
“That came out harsher than I intended. What I meant is you shouldn’t be concerned about Stephen.”
“So you think he is going to be okay?”
“You know how excitable Betty can be.”
Juliane exhaled, he had a point. “If you aren’t here about Betty or Stevie, what brings you today to my world?”
The smile was immediately back on Alan’s face as his avatar transformed back into the confident individual she remembered back from their time together.