I blinked at Sean stupidly, trying to think of what to say as he stood straight.
“…thank you…” I whispered sincerely.
“I’ll leave you alone now,” he nodded. “Lily, if you ever need me, my office is right here on the corner,” he pointed at the left corner office in the middle hall.
“Thank you,” I said again. He nodded and said goodbye to Clark before walking to his office and disappearing inside.
“Wow…” I breathed. “He’s a lot braver than I thought.”
“He’s probably the only one who can talk to Dana like that,” Clark agreed.
“They aren’t…like…” I looked at Clark expectantly.
“No idea,” he admitted. “I’ve seen Dana flirt with him a lot, but I’ve never seen it go beyond that, so who knows?” Clark pointed at Dana’s office door. “I shouldn’t need to tell you…” he said, raising his eyebrows as he motioned to the nameplate.
We then turned down the middle hall and Clark pointed to the offices, including his mother’s, the offices of Dana’s other two advisors, and others who were key in Dana’s political detail. Once we reached the end of that hall and we were at the first hallway again, Clark took a deep breath, his step slowing.
“Are you ready to go back into the lab?”
I felt my heart race in terror. We walked through the hallway devoid of doors, me acutely remembering that the silent man behind us was carrying three tracers that were going to be put under my skin.
Clark led me to the door at the end of the hallway of Dana’s office, bringing memories back of the last time I had been through that door.
Clark stepped aside and let Mark pass, who used his card and fingerprint scans to open the door. A part of me was really confused why Mark would have clearance into the labs of the Commission as a former experiment himself, but I did not think to ask, since we were immediately stopped by the security desk past the whirring lights.
“Clark,” one of the men blinked, shocked. “And Lily, the new girl…” He looked confused for a moment and then his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, right, tracers.”
He reached out to Mark, who pulled out the pouch with the tracers from his jacket pocket, handing it over. I was really surprised at how Mark seemed to understand quite a lot for knowing limited English. When I looked at Clark, asking him with my eyes, he nodded.
“Mark was here when I got my tracers put in,” he explained. “He knows what to do.”
“Alright, you’re not entirely in the system, yet…” the man at the desk mused, grabbing something behind the counter. “Hey, Jason, help me, will ya?” he said to the man behind him.
“What’d you need?”
“Scan Mark.”
“Aw, man, really?” Jason groaned. “I hate doing these freaky fuckers…” I watched Jason grumble as he grabbed something and walk over to Mark. “You,” he snapped sharply, pointing at Mark’s feet, “shoe off.”
The man behind the desk caught my attention again.
“If you could place your right hand against this screen,” he nodded to the flat screen he had placed on the counter. I obeyed, the screen scanning my palm and beeping as the guard typed into his computer. I turned again to watch Jason and Mark. Mark placed his right sock in his shoe, leaving his foot bare.
“Do you think he’s clean?” Jason grumbled. “I never know with these freaks. Clark,” he called, “can he do anything on his own? Do you have to bathe him, or can he do it himself?”
“Damn, what is with you people?” Clark groaned. “He’s not an invalid. He can bathe and dress himself. He’s perfectly capable.”
“My, someone is protective,” Jason teased coldly before smacking the side of Mark’s right leg. “Foot,” he ordered.
“What are they doing?” I whispered to Clark.
“All experiments have a microchip in their right foot and a tattoo with their experiment number. They scan it to be sure no one tries to sneak in,” Clark explained. “I’ll show you…” he said in response to my puzzled expression.
Jason was mumbling crude things under his breath as he held a screen to the bottom of Mark’s foot. I cringed at the words and Jason’s complaining about Mark being dirty and stupid.
The man behind the desk was about to tell me something, but Jason sighed heavily and pushed Mark’s foot away, standing straight.
“There, the fucker’s been scanned,” he groaned, annoyed.
“Quit bitching,” the other man laughed. “We have to check them, since all the damn slant-eyes look the same.”
“Their eyes are dead, I swear, like there’s no soul in them,” Jason grumbled as he returned to his position behind the desk.
“Of course they don’t have a soul,” the first one barked a laugh.
“Just in case you have forgotten, he can snap your neck before you even blink,” Clark snarled. “So why don’t you shut up and do your job rather than bully him?”
I was shocked at Clark’s actions defending Mark. I was angered and annoyed as well, but I felt uncomfortable speaking out against the harsh words.
“Back up, kid,” Jason growled. “You keep your freaky fucker in line. That’s the only job you need to be worried about, got it?” The man behind the desk shook his head, lifting a device in front of my face and telling me to look into the circle.
When my retina scan was finished and the man turned to his computer again, Clark tapped me on the shoulder, walking to Mark.
“Turn around,” he told the experiment, motioning with his hand. Confused, Mark stood still until Clark placed hand on his shoulder and turned Mark’s back to me. Clark tapped the side of Mark’s right calf, causing the experiment to lift his foot again. I saw the surprisingly large tattoo on Mark’s instep that read “80029.”
“The chip is under the tattoo,” Clark nodded, releasing Mark’s ankle and nodding, silently telling him to put his shoe back on.
“Alright,” the man behind the desk sighed, replacing the three chips in the bag. “We’ll let you in. Go straight back until you reach the last door of Ward Six,” he instructed. “Go to the hallway on the left and that will take you to Lab One. Clark should know where to go.”
When Mark had put his shoe back on, he took the bag with the tracers again. I took a deep breath to try and settle my stomach. I was so nervous, I was practically shaking as we entered the Enterprise labs.
Mark placed his hand against a black pad to open the first door, bringing us into the hall with the floor-to-ceiling glass doors to the cells.
“These are the termination cells,” Clark explained, his voice echoing. There were only two cells occupied. One housed a girl about my age, who was curled in the back corner, covering her head as she shivered. Clark placed a hand on my back to keep me moving.
“Maybe it’s best if you don’t look…”
“I want to…” I wanted to see them, but not as experiments. I wanted to understand who they had been before Dana got his hands on them. I wanted to know who they were as people. Seeing someone my age in a cell that ultimately led to execution made my heart fall into my stomach. What was the difference between me and her?
The other occupied cell held someone I could not discern, since he was curled up in the back corner, his back facing the glass. I continued through the short hallway with Clark, Mark trailing behind us.
With the use of Mark’s fingerprints we moved into Ward Three. Not as overwhelmed as I had been my previous visit, I was able to fully study my surroundings. Before entering the doors marked with a large “3” we stepped across a hallway extending both directions, leading to doors marked “1” and “2.”
“Those are Wards One and Two,” Clark nodded to each door. “To get any further into the labs, you have to go through Ward Three and Ward Six. Wards One and Two both dead end.”
I looked around the bright hall of Ward Three as we walked, vaguely remembering my first tour. I noted the smaller hallways branching from the main one that lead to more cells, but I was
unable to explore the ward completely, Clark leading me insistently through the rows of glass doors. One of the experiments ran up to the glass, banging her fist against it angrily as we passed. I jumped, startled by the appearance of the young woman with a shaved head and a metal muzzle around her mouth.
“It’s alright,” Clark said. “That glass is strong enough to withstand even the strongest experiments. She can’t reach you.”
“What can…I mean…what kind of…” I did not know how to phrase my question.
“I don’t know,” Clark admitted. “I don’t know most of the experiments. But we are in Ward Three, so she’s not as powerful as the ones further back.”
“What ward did Mark come from?” I asked as we reached the door out of the ward.
“Eight,” Clark answered. “Originally, Mykail was in Ward Seven, if I remember correctly.”
“I know,” I blurted. I hesitated, glancing at Mark, but he seemed not to understand our conversation. Mark led us into another hallway mirroring the first, with the door in front of us pained with a “6” while the two on either end of the hall were marked with a “4” and “5.”
“Wards Four and Five are the other two gift wards. They also dead-end, just like Wards One and Two. Ward Six is the first of the weapons, so they might be a little more aggressive. Just keep walking. The lab is just past this ward.”
Several of the twelve cells on the main hall of Ward Six were empty. I could not help but hesitate outside the cells of a young black girl, who was sitting in the middle of the cell, staring at us. She looked to be only five or six years old, and while a part of me was sickened at seeing such a young girl there, I was also frightened, realizing that she was a weapon. I could see the danger in having a powerful weapon concealed behind such a young, innocent exterior.
When we reached the end of the ward, Mark opened the door once more and led us into a larger hallway with two corridors open on either side. Mark turned to look at Clark, who pointed to the right. Mark led us down the appointed hallway.
“These are the labs,” Clark explained. “You went into the other one before.”
As we entered the corridor, the door at the end of the hall that read “Lab 1” opened and a man in a suit similar to Mark’s stepped out. He was also Asian, but looked younger with softer, thinner face. As he passed us, he and Mark looked at one another, speaking silently for the briefest moment, before the other man walked away. Mark turned his head over his shoulder to watch him leave, before opening the lab door for us.
I hesitated before stepping in, Clark following me.
The lab was bright, much brighter than the lab I remembered from my first night. Every table was empty and the curtains were drawn back, making the room look larger. There was only one man in the lab, looking at a tablet, but he looked up when the door closed behind us.
“Hello,” he greeted. “You must be Lily Sandover,” he nodded, clicking his tablet off with a smile and motioning us closer.
I walked in on legs made of jelly. I nervously noted the locations of the sharp instruments lying around the room. I had always been afraid of needles, so being in that room was nerve-wracking enough, let alone the thought of having the tracers put under my skin by, what I assumed would be, large needles.
The scientist motioned to one of the tables.
“Go ahead and hop up here for me,” he said before grabbing one of the many plastic boxes stacked on one of the shelves in the corner. I sat on the very end of the table, wringing my hands in my lap. I looked around anxiously as both Mark and Clark walked up to me, Clark offering me a comforting smile.
The scientist returned with the plastic tub and a device I knew was used for scanning the chip behind my ear for my medical information.
“Alright, I’m going to scan this now…” he murmured, setting the plastic tub down and pressing the tip of the pen behind my ear as he glanced down at his tablet once again. He stared at it for a moment and then nodded, moving the pen away.
“Good. So, we’re just putting in three tracer chips. They will be placed under the skin of your left ankle, the joint where your thumb meets your hand, and then one next to your right shoulder blade,” he explained. He opened the tub and I saw new, plastic-wrapped instruments, including a tray and a bottle of solution. The scientist wheeled over a stand and spread everything on the surface before reaching out to Mark for the chips.
“I will numb the areas before putting these in, don’t worry,” he laughed lightly. I must have looked terrified judging by the tone of his voice.
He filled the metal tray with the solution and dropped the microchips in to sterilize them before grabbing one of the three syringes he had to unwrap. I cringed and closed my eyes as he ripped off the plastic, trying to keep my stomach from squirming at the sight of the needle. The scientist must have seen my behavior because the next thing I heard was:
“Do you have a fear of needles?”
I nodded, my eyes still closed.
“I’ll have Clark hold your hand while we do this, alright?” the scientist said gently. I was surprised at how nice he was, considering his employment. “I need you to take off your shoe and sock and roll up your jeans on your left leg,” he instructed. “This should work very quickly. Have you ever been numbed by the dentist?” I nodded. “It’s going to feel like that.”
With shaking hands and a light head, I kicked off my shoe and pulled off my sock. Everyone was waiting patiently, but I felt embarrassed by my shaking hands and frightened by the needle that glinted maliciously in the scientist’s hand.
When my leg was exposed, he placed a hand against my knee, using his arm to brace my leg while positioned the syringe.
“Take Clark’s hand. Face away and close your eyes. There will be a pinch and then it will feel cold.”
I did as I was told, squeezing Clark’s hand. I cringed when I felt the pinch, knowing it was the needle going under my skin. It took everything I had in me not to be sick or pass out. Every muscle was clenched tight until the needle was removed. Even then, I still felt the lingering nausea.
“Okay, we’ll wait a few moments. While we’re waiting, I’ll also numb your hand,” he said, motioning Clark to step to the other side of the table. Clark took my other hand. I still kept my eyes shut, not sure if I could handle the way the room was spinning.
The scientist set my hand on the biting, cold surface of the stand and steadied my fingers before reminding me of the pinch and pushing the needle into my skin. I wanted to lay on the table, or even on the floor, just to have something solid to support me.
I felt the tingling for a few minutes in both my hand and my ankle.
“Can you feel that?” the scientist asked, poking my ankle.
I shook my head.
“Can you feel this?” he pressed, prodding the middle of my calf. I nodded tightly, eyes closed. “Okay, we’re ready for the first one. Mark, over here…” he said. I heard footsteps and then felt Mark’s warm hands brace my knee and rest over the top of my foot. “Okay, Lily, squeeze Clark’s hand, keep your eyes closed…you will feel some pressure on your ankle, but you should not feel any pain. If you do, tell me immediately and I’ll stop.”
I nodded, turning my head to Clark, who wrapped his other hand around the back of my head, guiding me to rest my forehead on his shoulder. I took deep breaths. Because I was so anxious already, I felt the pressure that the scientist warned of and it made me jump. However, Mark held my leg steady with surprising strength.
It felt like an eternity that I felt the pressure on my leg and the movement of the scientist as he moved around me, placing the first tracer in my ankle. I didn’t actually feel anything, but being so tense, I was more sensitive than I should have been. By the time I felt the bandage on my ankle, I was afraid to move at all for fear of passing out.
“First one done,” the scientist announced. Mark’s hands moved, my leg falling limply over the edge of the table. The jolt scared me and I had to take slow, even breaths to ke
ep from vomiting.
“Here, drink some water,” the scientist said quietly, bumping my hand—which was still clutching Clark’s desperately—with what only could have been a plastic bottle. I shook my head, my eyes tightly closed. “It will help a little.”
Shakily, I took the bottle, trying to lift it to my lips, though Clark had to help support the bottle so I wouldn’t drop it. I managed one big gulp before I pulled the bottle away, exhausted.
“Let’s just get the next one done and then I’ll let you recover while your shoulder numbs…”
Once again, I placed my head against Clark’s shoulder while Mark steadied my forearm and the pressure was applied to my hand. I was so tired that my body felt as though it was shutting down, numbing my brain a little to what was happening. My hand was carefully wrapped and I was offered water again. If I had not exhausted myself so much, I would have been embarrassed at being so worked up.
I was lucky that the others in the room were patient.
I could not tell how long it was before I was able to open my eyes but when I did, I saw everyone standing calmly. I assumed my reaction was something that the scientist was familiar with. No one spoke, which helped greatly, since there was no noise other than my labored breathing.
I took a few more gulps of water.
“Are you ready for the last one?” the scientist asked carefully.
I hesitated before nodding, realizing it was a rhetorical question.
“Okay, you need to take off your shirt for this,” he said. I tensed immediately, embarrassed. “Clark, stand over there and turn your back,” the scientist nodded to an area of the room. Clark gave my hand a comforting squeeze before he stepped away and turned his back to us.
Though I was still uncomfortable, I slowly pulled my shirt over my head and let it sit in my lap, feeling exposed and embarrassed in only my bra. Even though I was happy Clark had his back turned, I wished I had his hand for support.
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