by Eric Bernt
If only he had remembered this time to count the ninety-three steps it took from Dr. Skylar Drummond’s office to his room.
“Do you know who put it in my room?” There was an urgency in his voice bordering on panic.
“Eddie, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nurse Gloria’s voice was soothing. Even motherly. Eddie’s own mother had died giving birth to him, which had been the primary motivation behind Eddie’s devotion to acoustic archeology and the development of his invention, the echo box. He had wanted to hear his mother’s voice. So many people had told him as a child that his mother had the voice of an angel, yet sadly, no one had ever bothered to record her.
Eddie had made it his mission to hear the voice of that angel. His angel. He had thought of little else until finally accomplishing his goal three days ago. And the moment was everything he had hoped for. His mother’s voice was truly angelic. He had repeatedly listened to the sound waves re-created from the decayed, inaudible energy waves still present in Saint Christopher’s Episcopal Church in Saylan Hills, Pennsylvania. And they were now permanently etched into his memory, which explained the smile that hadn’t left his face for several days.
At least, not until a few minutes ago.
Earlier that morning, Eddie had confronted his doctor, Skylar Drummond—the person he trusted more than anyone else he had ever known—with a heartfelt question during one of their “walks to nowhere” in the Harmony House yard.
Eddie loved these strolls in the yard, which had only recently become part of his daily routine. “Skylar, if I don’t want to share the echo box with anyone, do I still have to?”
She considered her answer carefully. “As far as I know, nobody else even knows it works. You made the rest of the world think it doesn’t.”
Eddie smiled the devilish grin of someone who had gotten away with something for the first time in his life.
“If nobody knows it works, it’s unlikely that anyone would ask you to use it.”
“I agree that it’s unlikely. But what if they do?”
She paused, studying him. “That’s a very good question. I honestly don’t know the answer. Would you mind if I thought about it for a while and got back to you?”
“How long do you mean by ‘a while’?”
She had forgotten the importance of specifics with Eddie. “No more than forty-eight hours.”
He took a moment to consider her proposition. “No, I would not mind if you took no more than forty-eight hours to think about it.” He then tilted his head, listening to two dogs barking in the distance. It was a small dog and a large dog. The smaller one barked much more ferociously than the larger one. Over the years, he had noticed this was almost always the case. Little dogs, it seemed, had something to prove.
“Eddie, why don’t you want to share the echo box?”
“The only sound I ever wanted to hear with it was my mother’s voice. I have heard it now. Last week made me realize that there are people who might use the echo box in ways I don’t want them to.”
“What ways are those?” She knew the answer, of course, but wanted to hear what he was thinking.
“The echo box could be used by bad people to do bad things, Skylar.”
“I suppose that’s true. But it could also be used by good people to do good things.” The possibilities presented by being able to listen to any conversation ever held, via re-creation of the original sound waves from the minuscule, decayed, but still-existent energy waves bouncing around any given space, were mind-boggling.
There truly would be no more secrets.
“I suppose that’s true.” He mimicked her perfectly in terms of tone and pitch, but the inflection sounded mechanical. In his regular voice, he asked, “There is no way to control how the echo box will be used by other people, is there?”
She shook her head. “Not if you are not present when they use it, and even if you are, they would still probably do what they want with it.”
“Please let me know after you’ve had enough time to think about it, as long as it doesn’t take more than forty-eight hours.”
She nodded reassuringly. They walked for five minutes without saying a word. These silent portions of their walks had become the doctor’s favorite part; she enjoyed watching her patient use his heightened sense of hearing as he took in the world around them. The sound of each of their steps. The wind rustling nearby leaves. A distant plane twelve thousand feet overhead. She barely paid attention to any of it, but she knew he never missed a single detail.
Eddie stopped abruptly, suddenly looking concerned. “What do I do now?”
CHAPTER 4
PATIENT YARD
HARMONY HOUSE
June 1, 10:44 a.m.
Skylar paused next to Eddie, nodding with the understanding of someone whose life had also been recently upended, although hers was due to loss, not gain. Only the week before, her boyfriend had been brutally murdered by an employee of the founder and former head of Harmony House, Dr. Marcus Fenton. It was Fenton’s former office that she now occupied, which gave her some small comfort. Well, that and Fenton’s suicide following his ouster from this facility.
“I would start by continuing to put one foot in front of the other,” she said to Eddie, motioning toward his shoes. Joking had only recently become a regular part of their communication.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean in this instant. I mean now as in the rest of my life. For as long as I can remember, the only thing I wanted to do was hear my mother’s voice.”
She paused, seeming to need the advice herself as much as her patient did. “Well, you figure out what you want to focus your efforts on, and then you figure out how to accomplish it.”
“I don’t know how to figure out either one of those.” He looked bewildered.
“That’s okay, you don’t need to. One of the things I know I want to do is to help you.”
“How do you know that’s what you want to do?”
“I knew from the first time I met you.” She held his gaze for as long as he would tolerate.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“How did you know you wanted to hear your mother’s voice?”
Eddie paused to consider the question. It was something he had never contemplated. “I don’t know. I just did.”
Skylar nodded. “That’s because it’s something you felt.”
He had to think about this. “So there are some things you know because you feel them?”
She nodded again. “I think of this as knowing something with my whole being, more than with just my brain.”
“Some people would say you are referring to the soul,” he said, repeating something he had heard without having any idea what the person was talking about.
Skylar had an expression like she had just heard something incredibly insightful, which seemed to be the response Eddie was hoping for—to make her think he understood what she was talking about, when the truth was, he was merely guessing. The subjects of soul and spirit confused him because they were so unknowable. He could feel his discomfort start to rise and knew to change the subject before he got too anxious. “Are you sure you can help me, Skylar?”
“I wouldn’t say that I’m sure, but rather that I’m confident I can. I know that I want to. And I believe that I can because I’m determined to. I also studied for a number of years before meeting you, so I have a fair amount of preparation.”
“But you don’t know what I want to do yet, so it could be anything. And you couldn’t have studied everything. That’s impossible.”
“You’re right. That is impossible.”
“What if I want to do something you can’t help me with, like become an astronaut? Or build the tallest building in the world? Or genetically engineer a more nutrient-dense carrot?”
“I will either learn what I need to learn to help you, or I will find someone who already knows how.” She seemed to sense he was already thinking of something. Somet
hing he wasn’t quite ready to communicate. “What’s on your mind, Eddie?”
He looked upward. “Nothing is on my mind.”
She had forgotten not to use metaphors. “Sorry. I mean, what are you thinking about?”
He hesitated. “Nothing.”
She imitated the BUZZER sound he often made when hearing someone deliver a false statement. Eddie had learned the sound from watching game shows. It was a playful attempt at letting him know he was not being forthcoming; she clarified by adding, “Not true.”
“There is no way you can know what I’m thinking. There is no way to read someone’s mind. At least, not yet.”
“I didn’t say I know what you’re thinking, but I do think there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Why do you think that, Skylar?”
“I can feel it.” She put her hand high on her chest.
He hesitated again, looking up to the sky and then the trees. A gentle breeze blew across his face. “Were you in love with Jacob Hendrix? I mean, before he died on the train tracks in the subway station last week?”
Skylar momentarily stopped breathing, trying very hard not to reveal how devastating the question was for her. Turning her face away from Eddie, she clenched her jaw as tightly as she could. Keep it together! Eddie didn’t know to ask the question gently, or how fresh the pain still was for her. Jacob hadn’t even been laid to rest yet. The funeral wasn’t scheduled for another two weeks, to allow extended family members time to make the necessary travel arrangements. “Yes, Eddie, I was.”
“How did it happen?”
“Do you mean, how did I fall in love with Jacob?”
“Yes—could it have been anyone, or did it have to be him?”
She smiled, satisfied that she had uncovered what her patient wanted to discuss. “That’s a great question. Boy, do we have a lot to talk about.”
Immediately following her “walk to nowhere” with Eddie, Skylar left the grounds of Harmony House. She explained to Stephen Millard, the assistant she had inherited from her deceased predecessor the week prior, that she had a meeting outside the office but would be back later that afternoon. He promised to hold down the fort, then watched her pull out of the parking lot in her Accord. Stephen took out the new phone he had recently received and pressed the speed-dial button for the only number he was ever to call with that device.
Bob Stenson answered with a single word. “What?”
“Dr. Drummond just left Harmony House grounds for an outside appointment. She said she will return this afternoon.”
“That is unlikely.” Stenson hung up.
CHAPTER 5
RESIDENTIAL WING
HARMONY HOUSE
June 1, 12:41 p.m.
Before Skylar had entered Eddie’s life, Nurse Gloria had been the only person who’d ever been able to effectively calm him down when he reached a certain point. She had a soothing, nurturing manner—but mostly it was her motherly voice, which explained why Eddie responded so readily to her. It really didn’t matter what she said. Her tone was a tonic for Eddie and had been from the first day she started working here, and he preferred her to every other nurse in the facility.
“We’re talking about something that doesn’t belong in my room!” he screamed. They paused outside his door. He balled his hands into fists, preparing to let loose on himself. He was hyperventilating. His hands were shaking. This was a level of fear he had never known inside these walls, which had been his home for the last sixteen years, one month, and eighteen days. Harmony House was his sanctuary. The world outside this government-run facility made him feel unsafe—especially since his recent adventures in New York and Philadelphia—but Eddie had never felt that way inside these confines. Not until now. And it was terrifying.
Nurse Gloria put her hands on his shoulders. He flinched slightly at the physical contact but did not move away from her. There was only one other person he felt comfortable enough with to let them touch him, but Skylar wasn’t here. “You know all I want to do is help you, right?”
He nodded. His voice quieted. “I don’t want it in there. I want it out of my room.”
“Eddie, whatever it is, I’m going to take care of it. I promise.” She was searching his face, hoping to further reassure him, when she felt the phone in her pocket buzz. Not her regular phone. Her special one. It was the newest iteration of the device she’d been given twelve years ago, when she started working for the people whose names she didn’t know. The ones she reported to by text on a nightly basis, giving them a status report on the development of Eddie’s echo box.
This was the first time they had ever initiated contact with her. Even more unusual, it wasn’t just a text. They were calling her, whoever “they” were. Nurse Gloria answered her phone with trepidation. “Hello.”
The voice on the phone spoke clearly and succinctly. “Do not enter Edward Parks’s room.”
“Excuse me?” She seemed to think her ears had betrayed her.
“Do not enter the patient’s room under any circumstances. Is that clear?”
Gloria looked stunned. She glanced around her, looking for the security cameras that she assumed must be staring down at her. But if there were any, she couldn’t see them. What she could see was Yancy Packard, the new head of Harmony House security, standing at the end of the hall. My God, he works for them, too. The look on his face told her so. “Yes, it’s clear.”
“Go about your regular duties,” the voice on the phone said. The instructions weren’t exactly barked but might as well have been. The caller hung up.
Nurse Gloria took a deep breath. “Eddie, I’m sorry, but there’s something urgent I have to attend to.”
He made his BUZZER sound. “Not true.” His skill as a walking lie detector remained as sharp as always. The government had yet to test anyone more accurate. As far as Eddie knew, this was the first lie she had ever told him. “Nurse Gloria, why did you just lie?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. She looked genuinely pained, like this was a moment she would never forgive herself for, and hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry, Eddie, but I have to go.” She started to walk away.
Watching her hasty exit, Eddie called after her, “Nurse Gloria, why are you sorry?” But she raced around the corner without answering. Eddie turned toward the new head of security standing at the end of the hall. “Will you get it out of my room?”
Yancy Packard did not respond.
“When somebody asks you a question, it is impolite not to answer. Dr. Fenton told me that several times. Did you know him?”
Packard still said nothing. His face remained expressionless. Eddie had observed the man having several conversations with other personnel earlier in the week, leading Eddie to believe there was nothing wrong with the man’s hearing. Or perhaps he required hearing aids that he had forgotten to wear this morning, or they had broken or been misplaced, which would explain why the man was not responding to him now. That meant Eddie was going to have to walk down the hall to get directly in front of the man so he could read Eddie’s lips. But the thought of standing so close to anyone made him uncomfortable. Eddie’s right hand twitched.
He turned back to look inside his room. He reached a decision. After the recent events he had managed to survive, on his adventure beyond the perimeter of Harmony House, he decided this was something he could take care of himself. He marched inside his room with all the courage he could muster and surveyed his possessions. Everything was in its place. Except the one thing that didn’t belong in his room, which must have been brought in while he was at lunch after his walk to nowhere with Skylar. He stared with alarm at the thing.
It was another laptop, a second one, sitting on his desk next to his own. The computer was open and turned on. Eddie inspected it closely without touching it, almost like he was afraid to. Like it might have been a bomb. Or coated with neurotoxin. But the technology of the machine was first-rate. The screen appeared to be 4K Ultra HD, because the resolution w
as superb. The machine’s built-in camera glowed red, which meant it was on.
Somebody was watching him.
On the laptop screen he could see a blank wall in a nondescript room. There was nothing remarkable about it. The wall was painted a muted yellow. A faint, muffled voice could be heard in the background, but the voice could not be identified, not even by Eddie.
He leaned in to the screen. “Hello?” There was no answer, so he asked again, “Hello? Is anybody there?”
CHAPTER 6
AMERICAN HERITAGE FOUNDATION
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
June 1, 12:46 p.m.
Bob Stenson was only the third director in the forty-three-year history of the American Heritage Foundation. Founded in 1975 by like-minded operatives from several different United States intelligence agencies after the debacles that resulted in the Church and Pike Committees, this organization quietly thought of itself as the savior of the Great American Experiment. Its members were the ones pulling the strings and shifting the tides that kept the United States from going astray or collapsing upon itself. And no one outside of a select few even knew they existed, which was perhaps their greatest trick of all in today’s hyperconnected world.
They seemed to know everything, but no one knew a thing about them. They were invisible, an unseen hand in so many events over the last four decades that had shaped American policy, steered judicial rulings, and directed military funding. Their record was unparalleled in getting their chosen candidates elected. The AHF was thirty-seven and zero. Not one of the candidates they had supported had lost. That was because they were incredibly selective. They were also extremely careful in how they conducted their business. They were methodical, rational, and utterly ruthless. They worked only with people they had known for years and vetted from a variety of sources. There were never any direct ties to them, so in the rare instances when things went sideways, such as during last week’s events involving the pursuit of Edward Parks and his echo box, nothing could be traced back to them.