“Don’t apologize, please. He wasn’t bothering me at all. In fact, I really enjoyed his company. We talked about rocks. It was a fun visit, wasn’t it, Gatlin?”
Gatlin stared at the floor in silence.
Caster looked into Briar’s eyes and smiled, his straight teeth glistening like little ice cubes—only colder. “Miss Lee—how can I put this delicately?” He cut his gaze to the ceiling and frowned, then swooped his attention back to her. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve never taken a course in sensitivity training. So, I’ll simply tell you how it is.”
Briar wanted to wiggle away from those dagger-eyes skewering her in place.
“In your present condition, my son will not benefit from a relationship with you.”
His words hurt far worse than the insults she’d received from online haters. She’d almost gotten used to those. Discrimination—ugly, hurtful, and humiliating, was perfectly allowable in politically correct society—providing the target possessed functioning God-zones. But an up-close-and-personal punch to the gut was different from a virtual slap in the face. Caster’s words didn’t leave behind a sting. They left a bruise.
“Because I’m unlevel?”
“Understand, it’s for your own good. Imagine what would happen if I were to walk in on one of your ‘fun visits’ with my son to find you unwittingly filling his head with poison? What if—through no fault of your own—the runoff from your diseased Agathi flowed through your mouth to his ear, and seeped into his still-developing brain?”
Briar’s mouth turned dry as the surrounding hills. “Hasn’t Gatlin received his SAP injections?”
Caster’s icy smile disappeared as he moved closer. The man was a mountain, and she was a severely underdressed molehill.
“What is in my son’s brain is not your concern. Ensure you don’t make any contributions. Otherwise, I will be paying my own unexpected visit.”
Briar swallowed, hating the click in her parched throat. She noticed he’d left out the word “fun.”
Caster led Gatlin to the door, his cold grin returning. “I’m sorry it was necessary to take up so much of your time, Miss Lee. We’ll be going now.” His strong fingers curled around the doorknob.
She clutched the sheet to her breastbone, half-expecting wintry steam to escape the man’s lips.
“Wait!” Gatlin dodged beneath his father’s arm and darted to the bed, his sneakers squeaking as he slid to a stop. He grabbed Briar’s hand, pressing his prized rock into her palm. “Keep it.” He ran back to his dad’s side.
Caster frowned down at the boy and shut the door.
Briar fell back on the bed, releasing the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Gatlin’s rock was warm in her hand. She raised the stone, twirling it above her, watching the light bounce over the golden glitter. A tear slid down her cheek with another close behind.
She missed her little friend already.
~*~
“Are we hungry?” Lukas asked, determined not to laugh at the angry growls echoing from Briar’s stomach.
“We? I can’t speak for you, but I’m starving.”
Lukas hid a smile as he positioned the small foam cushion beneath her knees. “Ready for your headgear?” he asked, holding up the contraption.
“Oh, no. Not a helmet.” She rocked her head back and forth on the table.
“The sooner you comply, the sooner we can get this over with.”
“There you go with that ‘we’ stuff again. Fine. Lay it on me.”
Lukas positioned the white dome over her face as she squeezed her eyes tight and stuck out her tongue. He shook his head. What was it about this girl? She annoyed and enchanted him all at the same time. She made him jumpy when he wanted to relax and—most irritating of all—smile when he didn’t feel like smiling.
Her stomach gurgled again. “Are you listening to this? I think my stomach is devouring itself. Too bad this isn’t a full-body scan, we could watch.”
That did it. Lukas dropped his hands to his sides and laughed. “I give up,” he said, letting his chin fall to his chest as he continued to chuckle. “You caused me to lose my composure. Are you satisfied?” He peered down at her through the apparatus covering her face.
“Extremely.” She brought a hand to her stomach. “Still hungry, though.”
Lukas laughed harder.
“I don’t know—or care—what’s so funny, but I don’t have time for this.” Reid’s angry voice blared through the headphones sitting beside Briar on the table. Thank goodness he hadn’t put them on her yet. At that volume level, Reid would’ve blown both of Briar’s eardrums.
“Sorry,” Briar whispered. “Didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
Lukas shook his head. “It’s my lab, remember? Besides, she’s only blowing off steam. She’ll be fine.”
“She had a tough morning?”
“The worst. First, the sun had the nerve to come up. After that, I think a few birds were even caught singing.”
Lips tight and shoulders shaking, they looked through the headpiece at each other in silent laughter.
“I can hear you whispering!” Reid roared, flying from the technician’s booth.
“Calm down. I’m lightening things up for Briar. Things are too dull around here, I don’t want her dying of boredom.” He snapped his gaze to Briar. “Figuratively, of course.”
“Of course.” She nodded, bumping her face on the helmet. “Ouch. I’m OK.”
Reid swished to the side of Briar’s table. “I hate to break this to you, but having a brain malfunction doesn’t make you royalty.”
“Darn. I thought this was my coronation, and that this cage over my face was a crown.”
“You think you’re so witty,” Reid spoke through clenched teeth. “Well, let me tell you what I think—I think you’re a spoiled brat who’s screwed up in the head. Deep down you’re miserable, and want everybody else miserable, too. I think you enjoy having functional Agathi. You believe those stupid, glowing God-zones make you somehow special. Queen of Stone Labs. Well, they don’t. They make you pathetic.”
Heat flashed behind Lukas’s eyes. “Reid, back off.”
“Back off?” Reid stepped closer to Lukas. “Oh, how sweet! The big, bold, scientist is coming to the aid of his weak little test subject. Or maybe you’re testing out more than just your abstergent on her? Perhaps the two of you have some extracurricular experimentation going on.”
“Leave.” The word left his lips in a quiet explosion. Never had fury overtaken him like this. Not even when as a child, Caster tripped him, causing him to land face-first in the dirt, embarrassing him in front of his friends. The anger he’d experienced then was a summer breeze compared to this.
Reid crossed her arms and settled into one hip. “You’re joking.”
“Leave. Now.”
Her lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You’d better watch yourself, Lukas. She might be contagious. I suggest running a few tests on your brain to make certain your SAP level is still where it should be. To be sure the serum is still doing its job.” She leaned over Briar and smiled. “Enjoy your brain scan, test subject.” Nose in the air, Reid stepped briskly across the tile and slammed the door.
Heat rose to Lukas’s ears. “I’m at a loss for words. Reid’s behavior is inexcusable—and an embarrassing representation of Stone Labs. I don’t understand what’s gotten into her. I mean, she’s not normally all sweetness and light, but she’s not usually a full-on wicked witch, either.”
“She’s jealous. She has feelings for you and having another female around makes her feel threatened.”
Lukas shook his head. “Reid, jealous over me? No way. We’ve worked together for nearly a year. She’s never shown any signs of being interested.”
Briar chuckled. “Trust me. I’m a psychology major—although I wouldn’t have to be to notice. Anyone could see that she’s jealous. It may as well be tattooed on her forehead. If you don’t believe that, maybe you’re romantica
lly challenged as well as elevationally challenged.”
“Is that another crack about my acrophobia?” Unbelievable. The girl was relentless. She’d actually gone there again. Lukas couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be insulted. “I told you, the fear of heights shouldn’t be taken lightly,” he said, knocking on her headpiece, causing her to blink.
“I realize that—psychology major, remember? But for some reason, I can’t resist.”
Lukas could relate. He shook his thoughts back to reality. He’d better start resisting, immediately, or he wouldn’t accomplish a thing in the way of research—the whole reason Briar was here in the first place.
He picked up the headphones. “Seems I should’ve put these on you before positioning the headpiece.”
She shrugged. “Do I really need them? The sounds the machine makes won’t bother me. I’ve undergone dozens of scans. I’m used to noise—in fact, I prefer it.”
He nodded. “OK. We’re ready to do this. I’ll step into the technician’s booth and fire up the machine. Lie completely still, and it will be over in a few moments. I’ll be monitoring you on the screens and watching through the glass.” He stepped from her side, taking the headphones with him.
“Wait. Lukas? Do you think, after my scan, we could have lunch together?”
“You usually eat in your room.”
“Yes. But yesterday your burned popcorn fumes choked me out, and I literally almost died. I think I’d like some fresh air today. Maybe eat outside on the bench, beside the little cactus?”
Lukas didn’t have to be a psychology major to ascertain the reason behind his increased heart rate. “Sure. Sounds fine.” He stepped to the technician’s booth and started the machine.
6
“So, what did my scan reveal?” Briar forked a cherry tomato from her salad. “Am I a robot, an alien, or something else?” She smiled as she chewed.
“Afraid not,” Lukas said, poking around in his own salad. “You’re a regular girl with Agathi that doesn’t know when to quit.” Regular girl, he mused. The description was highly inaccurate. Briar Lee was anything but regular. But, he couldn’t very well tell her that. Besides, in general, girls probably didn’t like being told they weren’t regular. For that matter, young women probably didn’t like being called girls, either. Briar was by no means a child.
“Did you find out why my Agathi are still functional, no matter how much SAP they pour into my veins? No one has ever been able to come up with a reason. I have my own theory, but it’s not scientifically sound.”
“Honestly,” Lukas answered, “I don’t understand how they continue to function. According to scientific research, your Agathi should not be thriving. Enough SAP has pumped through your brain to disable a hundred Agathus.”
“Or the Agathi of one gigantic elephant—if elephants had Agathi.” She plucked a black olive from the bowl with her fingers and popped it into her mouth. “Can you tell me more about the God-zone? Dr. Parker never told me much about it. Everything I know I’ve learned from the Internet.”
“Well if you learned it from the Internet, it must be true, right?”
Briar’s smile reached the corners of her dark blue eyes. He’d caused that smile. His insides warmed with the knowledge.
“Not to dispute the Internet, but can you tell me about it, anyway?”
“With your father’s background as a chief leveling researcher, I assumed you’d be well informed.” Halfway through the sentence, Lukas felt like a jerk. Only months ago, her father committed suicide. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He wondered if he should apologize.
“Dad rarely mentioned his work. Maybe the irony of having an un-levelable kid made it hard to talk to me about it.” She shrugged.
She didn’t seem upset. Relieved, Lukas rose with his nearly empty salad container and held out his hand for her container. “Finished?”
She swiped out the last bit of dressing, licked her finger, and handed him the paper bowl. “I’ve learned a little bit about SAP, but not much. I know that it’s an acronym for Serum to Accelerate Progressivism. I also know that inoculation by SAP injection became mandatory in the United States ten years ago, and that it doesn’t work on me and a couple thousand other people in the U.S.”
Lukas returned the few steps from the recycle bin. He reclaimed his spot on the bench next to Briar, an inch or two closer than before. “What else do you want to learn?”
“Tell me about the Agathus itself. How it works. Why it’s so dangerous. I’ve been held prisoner by this tiny little whatever-it-is in my brain for my entire life. I want to find out more about it. From someone I trust.”
“I’ve never thought of myself as much of a teacher, but I’ll give it a shot.” He leaned against the backrest and squinted at the cloudless sky. “Thought and emotions of Christian nature are housed within a specific area of the brain referred to as the Agathus, singular, or Agathi, plural—think of cactus and cacti. Agathus is derived from the Greek word for thorn, named for the minuteness and curvature of the segment. Located on each side of the brain, in the medial temporal lobes, the Agathus, in true thorn characteristic, is imbedded between the hippocampus and the subtantia nigra.” He turned to her. “Am I being too technical?”
“No, not at all.” Briar’s gaze snapped with curiosity. “So far, I follow.”
“The job of the hippocampus, with help from the frontal cortex, is to analyze sensory input and decide what’s important enough to remember. Information deemed worthy ends up in the long-term memory, which is stored in different parts of the brain. The exact reason the Agathus stores information exclusive to the Christian religion has yet to be determined. Despite millions of dollars exhausted on countless studies, the cause remains a mystery.”
“Maybe God designed it that way.”
Lukas chuckled and then noted the somberness of her eyes. She was serious. The laughter died in his throat. He lowered his gaze, embarrassed for her. It was the Agathi talking, he reminded himself. She couldn’t help it. “Should I continue?”
“Please. Keep going.”
This time he’d appeal to her logical mind. It was difficult to argue with history. Shifting on the bench, he angled toward her. “Around twenty-five years ago, the government determined there was no longer a need for the Christian religion. Once upon a time, long before society became self-sufficient, belief in a supernatural savior may have supplied a kind of hope—a false sense of security essential to the survival of our culture. But not any longer. The Christian faith, it was decided, was doing society more harm than good.”
Briar frowned. “You’ll probably write this down in your notes, and I’ll get in a lot of trouble for saying it, but what right does the government have to remove the belief system of an entire group of people? Or even from one person, for that matter? Isn’t that terrorism?”
“Actually, it was quite the opposite. According to broadminded society, Christians were the ones doing the terrorizing. Claiming anyone who didn’t worship Jesus Christ would end up in hell, insisting abortion was murder, refusing to validate homosexuality and transgender lifestyles after being ordered to do so—these so-called believers made it impossible to maintain freewill society.”
“So, one day the government up and started shooting SAP into people’s brains to destroy their convictions? The solution was to turn the Christian population into a bunch of empty-eyed zombies?”
Lukas blinked, confused. “No, that’s ridiculous. Efforts were made to rectify the situation civilly. Sanctions were put into place to prevent church leaders from referring to specific behaviors as sin. Some churches complied under the threat of legal ramification, but many remained rigid. Their defiance not only slowed progressivism, it nearly tore the country apart. As a last resort, a group of government-funded scientists were called upon to develop a serum to erase information stored in the Agathi.”
“Tore the country apart, how? Did Christians force people to convert to their beliefs? Hold their
heads under baptismal waters?” Briar was less relaxed now. She perched on the edge of the bench, spine straight and shoulders back. “Or were they deemed terrorists simply because of what they believed?”
Lukas shifted on the seat. What was she twisting this into—a societal war on Christians? “It was more than that. Their beliefs were accusatory. The Bible, the very book their religion was organized around, encouraged discrimination by classifying specific actions as sin. Homosexuals, for example, were lumped in with liars, murderers, and slave traders.”
“First Timothy, chapter one.” Briar said, barely above a whisper.
Lukas lifted a shoulder. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen a Bible. Father and Mother never owned one that I’m aware of. Even before Bibles were banned.” The admission made him feel deficient. To scientifically prove or disprove a theory, correlative aspects must be studied and compared. Without Biblical knowledge, even a theory as flawed as the Christian religion couldn’t be disproved. In the subject of faith, Briar was his superior.
“My grandmother was a Christian. She taught me some verses.” Her eyes shimmered, and for a moment Lukas thought she would cry. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and clasped her hands together. “For the love of SAP, don’t tell your brother that,” she mock-pleaded. “He despises me enough already.”
Lukas’s heart cracked its knuckles. “What did Caster say to you?” He didn’t even realize they’d met, let alone shared a conversation.
She stared past him. “It’s not important.” She craned her neck, trying to see around him. “Hey, is that a path over by the side of the building? Can we take a walk?”
Lukas turned to follow her gaze. “Sure. But don’t be disappointed. The path doesn’t lead anywhere interesting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She hopped from the bench and made her way across the yard, careful to stay on the row of decorative stepping stones.
The Commandment Page 5