Adaptation

by Malinda Lo

  Her mom’s lips trembled. “Come here,” she said, and Reese moved onto the couch and into her arms. She heard her mom’s heartbeat beneath her ear, pulsing in the same rhythm as her own.

  And then a door seemed to open between them, and she could do more than merely hear it. She sensed her mom’s heart beating from the inside. She breathed the air drawn into her mom’s lungs. She experienced the movement of the muscles in her mom’s hands as she stroked Reese’s hair. Beneath it all was a deep sense of protectiveness that was anchored so firmly in her mother’s physical being that Reese couldn’t miss it if she tried.

  Her mom said, “I love you, honey,” and Reese recognized, then, that it was love she was feeling. She wanted to sink into it, soft and warm and cocoonlike. It was astonishing and comforting and completely, strangely, familiar. Of course, she had been in her mother’s body before. She didn’t remember it consciously, but it was there, a muscle memory long buried, now recalled the same way she would never forget how to ride a bike. There was nothing frightening about it because she knew that her mother loved her. There was no reason to be afraid of this connection that was open between them.

  She said, “I love you too, Mom,” and she meant the words with every fiber of her being.

  “Oh, sweetie,” her mom said, as if she heard something different in the tone of Reese’s voice. She drew back a little, and the connection between them stretched thin.

  Reese gasped as the space between them widened. Tears slid out of her eyes.

  “It’ll be all right,” her mom said. She reached for the tissues. Now they were almost completely separated.

  Reese wiped her tears away, unexpectedly chilled. Her mom rubbed a hand over her back, but it wasn’t enough to bring back that sense of being completely surrounded and supported by her. Reese took a shallow breath, wanting to go back to that feeling but also exhausted by the aftermath. It was a little like being hung over. As she glanced at her mom, she realized that her mom hadn’t experienced any of it. She looked the same as ever, although her eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

  “Is there anything you want to talk about?” her mom asked.

  The question forced Reese to gather her thoughts together. She scooted over on the couch to toss the tissue in the wastebasket in the corner of the living room, and her mom’s hand fell away from her back. It was like a spiderweb breaking, the strands floating in the air for one long moment before blowing away.

  She felt her body settling into itself again. Her blood, her bones, her breath. Her skin containing it all.

  What the hell had happened at the hospital in Nevada? She didn’t think those experiences with David and at the club were hallucinations anymore. They were like previews of what had just happened with her mom.

  “Reese?”

  She shook her head, focusing on her mom sitting nearby. They had been discussing Amber. “I’m just—it’s a lot, you know, to deal with. I didn’t exactly plan to, um, come out to you like that.”

  Her mom smiled gently. “I’m glad I know.”

  “Me too.”

  “Now why don’t you tell me why you’ve painted a gigantic red-and-yellow mural on your bedroom wall without asking my permission first?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “I just had this dream and I really wanted to see it in three dimensions. I’ve been thinking about it for days and I had to paint it.”

  Her mother leaned back, crossing her arms. “You had to paint it on your bedroom wall? I would have bought you a canvas, you know.”

  “I had to do it. I don’t know how to explain it.” Reese tried to figure out how to put the compulsion she had felt into words. “I’ve been having this dream ever since I got back. I kept seeing these colors in my head, and I had to see them in reality. I think it has something to do with what happened to me after the accident.” All of a sudden she remembered the tiny device she had found stuck inside the electrical outlet. She stood up. “Mom, I have to show you something.”

  Her mom looked surprised. “What is it?”

  “It’s outside in the backyard, but you have to promise not to say anything while we’re out there.”

  She stood slowly. “You’re starting to alarm me, honey. What’s in the backyard?”

  “Just promise you won’t speak outside. We’ll come back in afterward and you can ask all the questions you want, but not out there.”

  Her mom seemed doubtful, but she agreed. “All right, I promise.”

  Reese led the way through the house and out the back door. It was overcast outside, and the wind was already beginning to blow the fog inland, dampening the air with mist. Her mom followed her to the potted geranium, where Reese dug into the soil and pulled out the device. The light was still blinking red. She handed it over. Her mom’s mouth hardened into a thin line as she examined it, turning it over in her fingers. Then she went back to the geranium and shoved it into the dirt again. With a finger over her lips, she gestured for Reese to follow her back into the house. To Reese’s surprise, she kept going toward the front hall, where she grabbed her keys and phone.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” she said.

  Confused, Reese followed her outside and down the front steps. Her mom turned west, heading up the street into the wind, and Reese hurried after her. “Mom? Where are you going?”

  “Where did you find that device?” she asked.

  “It was in the wall of my bedroom. I found it when I was painting. I took off the faceplate on the electrical outlet so I wouldn’t get paint on it, and that’s where it was.” Her mom was silent, and Reese asked, “Mom, why are we walking—” She cut herself off, fear sending ice down her back. “You think the rest of the house is bugged?”

  “I don’t know. But that is definitely a recording device. I’ve never seen one exactly like it before; it’s pretty advanced. But why would someone be bugging your room? And how do we know that only your room was bugged?” Her mom stopped at the end of the block. She turned to study Reese’s face with sharp eyes. “I trust you to tell me the truth, honey. Is there anything else I should know?”

  Reese looked away. The fog was massing at the western end of the street in a bank of pale gray mist. She thought of all the things she had said in her room, the things she had done while that thing was listening. Horror washed through her.

  “Reese?”

  She wanted to tell her mom everything—even the crazy parts about Area 51—but simultaneously she was afraid to say a thing. She didn’t want to get her mom involved in this until she knew what she was dealing with. She silently cursed herself for showing her the bug and tried to think herself out of this situation. She faced her mom. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s related to that nondisclosure agreement I was asking you about. I got it at the hospital. Maybe they’re just trying to make sure that I comply with it.”

  Her mom shook her head. “I knew that was related to you. You need to show me that NDA, all right?”

  “I will.” The wind blew mist in Reese’s face, and she shivered.

  “Is there anything else?”

  “No. I swear.”

  Her mom’s eyebrows rose, but Reese kept her gaze steady. She was not going to tell her about her plans with David and Julian for tonight; besides, they hadn’t done anything yet. And now, more than ever, she wanted to drive out to that warehouse. Maybe it was a tenuous connection, but she would rather do something than wait around for someone else to figure things out. She had always hated waiting.

  “All right.” Her mom pulled out her phone to make a call. “Jose?” she said a moment later. “Hi, it’s Cat. I need a favor. I need you to come sweep my house.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Jose Gutierrez was an investigator who worked for the district attorney’s office. He and Reese’s mom spent several hours going through the entire house, opening up every switch plate and electrical outlet, sweeping their hands under tabletops and behind any con
ceivable hiding place. Reese accompanied them silently, handing over tools and keeping track of loose screws as they searched. They found two more devices: one in the kitchen and one in the living room. Because there was no device in her mom’s bedroom or office, Reese had to face the fact that whoever was listening was listening only to her. Somewhere in the back of her mind there had been the tiniest possibility that this was related to her mom’s work; that somebody out there might be trying to spy on the assistant district attorney. But no. They were spying on her.

  The knowledge was frightening, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She had done nothing wrong. If this was related to the treatment she had received after the accident in Nevada, she hadn’t said a thing to anyone except David, and he had been there. They have no right to do this.

  Her mom asked Jose to check the Prius too. By then it was almost eleven o’clock, and Reese began to worry that she was cutting it too close to midnight, when David was due to arrive. Thankfully, Jose finished by eleven and took the three recording devices away with him, and her mom headed upstairs to bed. “I’m going to change the locks tomorrow,” she said to Reese, who was quietly fuming in the living room. “I don’t know when those things were planted, but whoever did it is not getting inside again.”

  Her mom’s light went out at eleven thirty, but Reese waited until five minutes before midnight to sneak down the stairs. It wasn’t until she was slipping out the front door that a horrible thought entered her mind. If her house had been bugged, what about David’s? What if someone had bugged his car? She halted in the doorway, frozen with indecision. There hadn’t been a bug in the Prius; maybe they wouldn’t bug David’s car. But could she risk it? It was his car, after all, and if they were listening to him, wouldn’t they plant something in his vehicle? She glanced upstairs, but all was still quiet.

  Her mom’s purse was hanging on the hall tree. Quickly, she reached inside and rooted around until she found the keys, and then went outside to wait for David.

  He pulled up a few minutes after midnight. She heard him unlock the doors for her, but instead of getting in she walked around to the driver’s side window and gestured for him to roll down the glass. She could see his puzzled expression in the light of the nearby streetlamp. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why aren’t you getting in?”

  “I’m going to drive. You should park and leave your car here. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier; there wasn’t any time.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’ll explain in a minute. Just go park and come back here. I’ll get my mom’s car out of the garage.”

  He cocked his head at her, as if about to ask more questions, but there must have been something in the look on her face that convinced him, because he gave in. She went to the garage and entered the code to open the door, praying that the noise wouldn’t wake her mom upstairs. At least the Prius was quiet.

  It didn’t take David long to park, and once he got into the car she began to drive toward Julian’s house. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

  She explained about finding the bug in her room and her mom sweeping the house and her car for others. “I thought it would be safer if we drove this car because I don’t know if yours is bugged.”

  “Who do you think put those devices in your house?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but I plan to find out. My mom is going to have them tested, but she said they were pretty advanced.” David didn’t speak as she continued to drive through the empty streets of the Mission District. There wasn’t much traffic, and she didn’t see anyone behind them. “Have you seen Agent Menzel since the last time we talked?”

  “No. I haven’t seen anyone.”

  “Do you think you were—um—”

  “Seeing things? I don’t know. Maybe if they’re recording us, they don’t have to follow us, and I was just being paranoid.”

  “Well, if someone’s following us, they’re going to be pretty obvious tonight. We’re driving out in the middle of the country; they’re going to be the other only other people on the road.”

  She pulled up outside Julian’s house, and David turned to her. “Reese, I have to tell you something.”

  There was a note in his voice that made a shiver of anticipation run across her skin. “What?”

  There was a knock on the passenger window, and Reese started in surprise. Julian stood outside, waving at them. She unlocked the doors and Julian climbed into the backseat, oblivious to the strained silence in the car.

  “Hey, I thought David was going to drive,” Julian said.

  Reese rubbed a hand over her eyes; her head felt a little funny. She hoped she wasn’t getting a headache. “Change of plans,” she said, and explained again about the bug.

  “They’re totally violating your rights,” Julian said. “That’s messed up.”

  “Yeah.” She put the car into drive, trying to ignore the pressure in her head. “Where do I go?”

  “Golden Gate Bridge first, to 101 North,” Julian said.

  “So what do you think is in this warehouse?” David asked.

  “My lead told me the remains of an airplane might be stored there. I’m looking for that, mostly, because the government is still insisting that only seven planes or something crashed in the US on June nineteenth.”

  “How many planes do you think crashed?” Reese asked.

  “At least a hundred. Anything from small private planes to airliners.”

  “A hundred?” David sounded shocked. “Wouldn’t that be kind of hard to hide?”

  “Well, not all of them crashed in the US. I don’t know what sort of security measures Canada and Mexico are taking, but even here there are plenty of ways to hide things.”

  “Why do you think they’d be hiding it?” David asked.

  “To cover something up, obviously.”

  “But what?” David pushed.

  “The cause of the plane crashes, mostly. If you don’t have remains to examine, you can’t determine the cause of the crash.”

  “The cause is those birds, though,” David said. “The government just issued a statement saying that the bird strikes were due to a virus that mutated through bird populations and caused them to go berserk. I saw it this morning on the news.”

  “There’s no evidence that this virus exists,” Julian said. “In independent testing of the bird remains that have been found, there’s nothing there that could cause those birds to do that.”

  “Then what do you think it was?” Reese asked.

  “There are a bunch of theories, some relating to magnetoreception capabilities being disrupted by radio waves.”

  “What?” David said skeptically. “Explain that in English?”

  “Birds navigate using magnetoreception—they can sense the Earth’s magnetic field, and that’s how they know where they are. When birds migrate long distances, they’re not flying around randomly; they know where they’re going because of this ability. But you can disrupt the birds’ magnetoreception with radio waves at a specific frequency. When the birds are disoriented, they go berserk.”

  “But why would someone do that?” Reese asked. “And who could do that over all of North America?”

  “Exactly,” Julian said. “It’s a bullshit idea. Especially because if it were true, it would require some massive coordinated effort to shoot radio waves at birds.”

  “Then what do you think happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. That’s why it’s important to establish that more planes did crash on June nineteenth. Maybe if we can amass enough evidence of that, we can convince Congress to push back against the Randall Administration and demand more investigation.”

  “Right now she’s saying that it’s solved,” David said. “I saw that this morning too. President Randall said the investigation is over, and once the Canada geese population is exterminated, everything will be fine.”

  “People are buying this?” Reese said.


  “Would you rather believe your president or think that she’s lying to you?” David asked. “I think most people want to believe that their leaders are telling them the truth.”

  “That’s bullshit too,” Julian said.

  “What do you mean?” David asked.

  “I’m not saying that every elected official is a liar, but the United States government does plenty of stuff without telling us about it.”

  “Like what?” David asked.

  “Oh God, don’t get him started,” Reese warned.

  “Like the NSA,” Julian said. “Dreamland. Project Blue Book. Depending on how deep into conspiracy you are, the Kennedy assassination and the moon landing. Not to mention all the crap that gets uncovered that the government has to apologize for later. The Tuskegee experiment. Abu Ghraib. We don’t know shit about what our government is doing.”

  “You believe all that?” David asked.

  “No,” Julian said. “I think the moon-landing conspiracy is total bullshit, for one thing. But I don’t believe everything the government tells us is the truth either.”

  “Reese, what do you believe?” David asked.

  “Honestly?” She glanced over at him. “Right now I have no idea.”

  The Golden Gate Bridge was cloaked in fog. The steel struts and wires, painted orange and lit from below, disappeared into the mist scarcely ten feet above the car. Reese had to slow down because visibility was so poor, but after they went over the Waldo Grade and descended into Marin County, the mist lifted, revealing the lights of strip malls on either side of the freeway.

  It was another hour’s drive north before they reached the exit to Petaluma that led to the warehouse Julian had mapped out on his phone. There had been hardly any traffic on the freeway, but now as they drove through Petaluma’s deserted downtown and headed west on Bodega Avenue, they became the only car in sight. The dark countryside on either side was broken only by the occasional streetlamp illuminating a dirt road or the corner of an isolated farmhouse. It was so much like the stretch of the Extraterrestrial Highway Reese had driven in Nevada that her muscles began to stiffen with tension, bracing for something to come flying at her out of the dark.