Lucy

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Lucy Page 24

by Laurence Gonzales


  Lucy gripped the bars and pulled herself unsteadily to her feet, trying to remember what had happened. She had been going through the forest. She found a house. She dyed her hair. She stole some girl’s clothes. Wet grass. A blue sky. A white puffy cloud. Then: Nothing.

  Wait: A dart. She looked down. A livid purple bruise spread across her right thigh. She rubbed it to see if it was hair dye, but it wasn’t. There was a nasty hole in its center, scabbed over with blood.

  She hobbled along, clutching the cold bars and trying to look out. She was in a lab or an operating room of some sort. There was an operating table with lights above it, turned off. She saw equipment of all sorts, steel shelves of bottles, linens. Pale daylight filtered through skylights from high above. What kind of place was this? She’d never seen such a place.

  “Hello,” she called. Then louder: “Hello! Is anybody here?” She heard far-off noises muffled by the doors and walls but couldn’t identify them. She looked all around the cage for some way out, but it was stoutly welded and the lock looked formidable. She paced back and forth. She was freezing, holding herself. Why was she wet? Why was she naked? Nothing made sense.

  And then she remembered the security guard at the airport, deadpan, without feeling, saying, “All animals have to be caged and put in the luggage compartment.”

  I’m in a cage, Lucy thought, because I am officially an animal.

  She sat down, shivering, and hugged her knees. She wondered, How could they do this? She knew how. Her father had explained it all. When Lucy was eleven years old, he had made her read The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich. As she read and gradually realized what was going on and what those people were going to do to other people, she had begged him not to make her go on reading. “Read,” he’d commanded. “I want you to know what you’re up against. Those people are not all Hitler, are they? One man you can dismiss. But almost eight thousand men and women oversaw Auschwitz. Can you dismiss all of them as being, by chance, criminal psychopaths? No. They’re human beings. That’s their trouble. That’s why you’re here. To change that.” Then with morbid fascination, with wonder and love and horror, Lucy had read Anne Frank’s diary. How she had wept for Anne. An ordinary girl, she thought. And so modern. There she was, in the midst of her nightmare, falling in love with Peter and reading about Oedipus, Orpheus, and Hercules—all that knowledge, Anne’s beautiful and tender mind, which would simply vanish as she languished in Auschwitz, fetched off in the flowering of her youth. And this was the girl who wrote, “I was born happy, I love people, I have a trusting nature, and I’d like everyone else to be happy too.” Now Lucy told herself, Be strong like Anne. Keep that core inside you intact for whatever’s coming. They can take your freedom, they can hurt you, they can even kill you. But there is a last bastion within the spirit that they never killed in Anne. She stayed in The Stream to the end. But even as Lucy told herself those things, she could feel the depth of her dread. Then she heard something. Voices. Muffled. Far off. She held her breath and listened.

  “You vote for Yamaguchi?” a woman asked.

  “Of course, I voted for Yamaguchi,” said another. “Four times. I musta hit redial a million times.”

  “You check the ass on that girl?”

  “I’d have an ass like that if I’d been ice skating since I was two.”

  Just random people talking in the hall. But where are we? Lucy wondered. What is this place for? She heard a key hit the lock and sprang to her feet. A middle-aged man with receding hair and a thick red nose came shuffling in, leering at her with an uneven smile. He wore the gray shirt and slacks of a janitor and a matching baseball cap cocked back on his head. A surgical mask hung around his neck, unused. He went to the wall, took down a coil of green hose from a hook, and moved toward the cage. He compressed his tongue between his lips, aimed the hose, and squeezed the spray nozzle. Lucy screamed as the icy blast of water hit her. She scrambled to the back wall as he played the jet of water across the floor and washed the urine and feces into a drain beyond the bars.

  “What are you doing?” Lucy shouted. “Are you insane?”

  “So you’re that monkey girl, eh? You been out for a few days.” He stared at Lucy in a way that made her long for clothes. “I’ll tell you one thing, you sure look good to me, clean you up a bit.”

  “What happened to my clothes? Why am I in a cage? Who are you people?”

  “You came in here like that. And you’re in a cage because you’re a monkey.”

  “You can’t do this. I’ll die in here. Do you not see a girl before you?”

  “Like I said, you’re a sight for sore eyes. They told me not to be confused just because you look human. They seen your genes. They seen ’em. They know what’s what. They’re scientists.”

  Lucy felt a trembling alarm at the idea of scientists. “Where are we?”

  “They’re gonna study you.”

  “Study me? Who? What kind of study? What are they going to do?”

  “Beats me. I’m just the factotum.”

  “Where are we? What city?” He smiled in that crooked way. Lucy could see that she was talking to the wrong person. “Listen,” she said. “Can you give me some water? And clothes? It’s freezing in here.”

  “I just wash out the cages. The doctor’ll be along soon.” The man turned to leave.

  “Wait,” she called out. “What doctor?” He turned back and grinned. Lucy could see his brown teeth. She could feel his eyes going all over her, and it made her skin crawl. “Could I have some water? Some water from your hose? Please.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle. “Now, don’t that beat all,” he said, and went through the door.

  Then Lucy couldn’t help herself. She collapsed on the floor and began weeping. They were going to study her. She had been right all along. She was in a science lab, and somebody was going to study her. She had heard tales of what happened to apes in labs. And she was terrified. More terrified than she had ever been. She heard her own high keening voice echoing off the walls. She became aware that someone might be listening. She looked around for microphones but saw none. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. There could be cameras as well. She stifled her crying and clutched herself tighter. The concrete was cold and rough on her skin. Her mouth was so dry that she could hardly swallow.

  35

  JENNY AND AMANDA went straight to Harry’s when they returned from Milwaukee. They were waiting for him in the kitchen when he returned from the hospital that evening.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” he said as he crossed to the refrigerator and opened the freezer. “I have some split pea soup. Loaf of bread. You hungry? You two look like your dog got run over. Where’s Luce the Goose?”

  As Harry began thawing the soup on the stove, Jenny explained everything to him. He took the news without any visible reaction. When she had finished, he said, “I’m sorry. I was wondering why you’d been avoiding me. I thought it was because of our date.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I just thought in the end that I’d have better news. That she was safe somewhere. But she’s not.”

  Harry handed Jenny a baguette. “Here, cut this, will you?” Harry was used to death and suffering. Jenny didn’t have much of an appetite but she knew his approach to life: Bad things will always happen. Let’s make ourselves strong so that we can deal with them.

  “Can I help?” Amanda asked.

  “Go down and get some wine, if you don’t mind.”

  Amanda turned toward the basement stairs.

  “Harry, are you angry?”

  “No, I’m thinking.” Harry continued to think for another moment as Jenny cut the bread. “Well, I have a very good lawyer if you want to try that route. Then there’s that senator.”

  Amanda came up with a bottle and showed it to Harry, whose eyebrows went up. “Chambertin Clos de Bèze, eh? A girl of wealth and taste.”

  “Did I get the wrong one? I’m sorry. There were so many I didn’t know
what to pick.”

  “No. That’s good. Really good. Might as well. You know, you don’t want to get hit by a bus and be lying in the gutter thinking, Damn. I should have had the Chambertin Clos de Bèze.”

  Amanda laughed. “That’s good, Harry. I haven’t laughed in a while.”

  Jenny smiled, watching them.

  “Yeah? You want another laugh? Well, try this: Chambertin Clos de Bèze ‘offers several octaves of fruit, herbal, floral and mineral notes, leading to a reverberating finish.’ Robert Parker said that. Or something close.”

  “But you’re supposed to be solemn,” Amanda said. “It’s a sad occasion.”

  “No, my dear child. Laughter quiets the amygdala.”

  “What’s the amygdala?”

  “It’s a little peanut in your brain that makes you freak out when bad things happen. Better, I think, to shut it up and get on with business.”

  “How did you get to be so calm?” Amanda asked.

  “Well, I like to start slow and taper off. Let that breathe, will you?”

  The following day they went to meet Harry’s lawyer at an office on LaSalle Street in downtown Chicago. Sy Joseph was a small man of fifty or so. He kept an old leather book bag that he had used since law school beside his worn wooden desk. Papers were stacked on the hardwood floor. He was framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that hadn’t been cleaned in years. They looked out onto the colorless buildings and the busy street below. Harry, Jenny, and Amanda sat in straight-backed chairs before him.

  “I’ve done some research, and think I have an answer,” Joseph said. “At least, a partial answer. If any local police agency had Lucy, we would know. State, county, and municipal police are still bound by habeas corpus. On the other hand, if the federal government has her, then essentially they can do anything they want.”

  “But they’d have to charge her with a crime and leave some record of her whereabouts, right?” Jenny asked.

  “No, I’m afraid not. Under the provisions of the USA Patriot Act they really can hold someone indefinitely without charge and even without probable cause.”

  “What about due process?” Jenny asked.

  “Well, as I say, that applies to local police forces. But under the Patriot Act, there is no more due process. And what I’m telling you applies to human beings in the traditional sense. When you take into account the fact that Lucy is an interspecific hybrid, then you enter terra incognita—there’s no law to cover that. They can make it up as they please.”

  “What do we do?” Amanda said.

  “I’m sorry,” Joseph said. “I’m just telling you what I know.”

  “Any advice, Sy?” Harry asked.

  “I’d report her to the local police as a missing person. The local police still have rules, and they still generally prefer to solve crimes rather than commit them.”

  36

  LUCY WATCHED THE GLOW that filtered through the skylight as it changed by imperceptible increments. Then she heard a key in the lock again. In walked a thin gray man in a lab coat and a surgical mask. He had close-cropped silver hair and rimless spectacles. He was neat to a fault, his shoes bright against the wet concrete floor. His name tag said, “Dr. L. Eisner.” He hurried in and studied Lucy with a disapproving look. She could hear his breath whistling faintly through his nostrils. She could not discern his intentions. He was giving off no signals in The Stream.

  “Who are you? Why am I in this cage?”

  “I’m sorry. Pure incompetence. The heavy hand of the military. I’m shocked. This was not my intention at all, I assure you.”

  “Okay,” Lucy said, taking a deep breath to try to calm herself. “Okay. Good. Then you can help me. I’m cold, and I need water.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Just a moment.” He turned and left the room.

  “Hey, wait! Where am I?”

  But he was gone. Lucy slumped against the bars. She thought, Have I lost my mind? Is that it? I’ve gone psychotic from the stress and this is all in my imagination. She went through a check of her own sanity. What’s your name? Lucy Lowe. Where do you live? Illinois. Who’s your best friend? Amanda. What day is it? She didn’t know. Who’s your mother? Jenny. No, Leda. I don’t know, she thought. I don’t know anything.

  She heard the key in the lock again and the man returned with a blanket, a hospital gown, and a plastic bottle of water. He put the items through a chamber in the side of the cage, a small door that she could open only after he had closed the outer door. Lucy drank half the bottle before taking a breath. Then she tied on the hospital gown and wrapped herself in the blanket.

  “I’m very sorry about this. I gave strict orders that you were to be treated in a humane way. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to be there.”

  “Who are you? Why am I being held prisoner?”

  “I’m Dr. Eisner. And I promise, much more comfortable accommodations are being arranged.”

  “But why am I here at all?”

  “For your protection. I assure you that I have only benign intentions toward you.”

  “I was shot and left naked on the floor.” Lucy could hear her voice rising. Stop, she told herself. Don’t go off on him. Try to be calm.

  “Yes, that was unfortunate. I should have known better. I promise that you’ll be treated humanely throughout the procedures from now on.”

  Lucy thought, Perhaps it is he who is mad. Because he wore a surgical mask, she had seen only his eyes. But she had seen enough. She tried to speak in a normal tone of voice: “What, what, what—” She couldn’t get the words out. “What procedures? Where are we? What are you going to do to me?” For a fleeting moment she had the thought that she could reach out and grab his arm. And before he knew what had happened, she could batter his skull against the bars like a box of strawberries. She concentrated on breathing. Don’t show your strength, she told herself. Make him think you’re weak.

  Eisner studied her. “Remarkable. The moment I saw you on television I knew that what I’d long dreamed of was real. You are, as your father would say, more human than human.”

  Lucy felt a stab of alarm go through her. “How do you know what my father would say?”

  “We took them, of course. Naturally, we had to have your father’s notebooks.” And seeing the look on Lucy’s face, added, “Don’t worry. They were out at the time. No one wants complications. We made it look like an ordinary burglary.”

  She felt all hope drain from her as she stared at him in speechless horror. At the same time, she could feel a fury rising inside her. She could feel strength pouring through her. She deliberately held herself still. If she started to rant, she knew, she might show how dangerous she could be. Don’t show yourself, she thought. Weep. Weep now and show him that you’re a helpless child.

  Lucy fell to the floor weeping into her hands.

  “I’m sorry. This was really the only way. Higher powers want you destroyed. They have these irrational religious beliefs. There’s no reasoning with the Christian right. They hate science. They fear knowledge. I crave it. I’m determined to protect you for as long as I can. Don’t you see the scientific opportunities here? Together we can fulfill your father’s dream.”

  “I don’t want to fulfill my father’s dream!” Lucy shouted through her tears. “I just want to go home.”

  “Yes, I understand. Of course you do. But I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

  Lucy wept for a time as Eisner stood watching. “Soon,” he said, “you and I will establish trust. That’s something I’ve been able to do here only a very few times over the years. Pan troglodytes and the very few specimens of Pan paniscus that we’ve seen here are very intelligent, but they can also be very dangerous, especially after they’ve undergone some of the necessary procedures. You can’t explain things to them and get them to cooperate just because it seems reasonable. With you I believe I’ll be able to do that at last.”

  Lucy’s tears had stopped as she had a revelation: Papa said that killing was wrong. Yet Lucy
now saw that she might have to kill this man. And it dawned on her that she could do it if she was forced to. Papa was wrong.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “We’ll start with some standard tests. This afternoon we’ll perform a craniotomy. You’ll be given a local anesthetic. The brain itself has no pain receptors, so you won’t feel anything there at all. I’ll explain as we go along. You’ll be awake for most of it. I’ll place electronic sensors in your brain. You won’t feel them. They’re extremely fine wires. They do no damage to the tissue. The surgical incisions will heal for a few days. Then we’ll send tiny electrical signals down the wires and make a complete map of your brain. It’s an unprecedented opportunity.”

  Lucy quailed. Her whole body was vibrating. She could no longer help herself. She could feel her guts churning as he spoke, and then the water that she’d drunk came exploding out of her mouth. She bent involuntarily and heaved a few more times before she was able to breathe again. Her vision was blurred with tears.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I assure you that this operation is completely safe. I’ve performed it many times, and there are no lasting effects.”

  She tried to speak, to reason with him, but all she could say was, “Don’t,” her voice a hoarse croak. “Please don’t.”

  “It’s really going to be just fine. We will give you a sedative to relax you. I’ve done these operations for decades. I’m the leading expert. It’s quite safe, I assure you. I know it’s hard. But it’s for science. For the good of humanity.” He turned to leave, saying, “My staff will be in shortly to prepare you.”

  “Don’t. Please don’t cut me.” Lucy clutched the bars as she watched him go. She couldn’t stop herself now. She flailed against the bars. “Don’t do this! Let me out! Please don’t do this!”

 

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